Astaria
(#57151925)
Level 25 Spiral
Familiar
Flesh Forager
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Wind.
Female Spiral
Expand the dragon details section.
Collapse the dragon details section.
Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
2.12 m
Wingspan
1.85 m
Weight
64.81 kg
Genetics
Fern
Fern
Fern
Banana
Paisley
Paisley
Cerise
Runes
Runes
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Spiral
Max Level
STR
7
AGI
10
DEF
7
QCK
66
INT
109
VIT
35
MND
5
Biography
SHE THAT HEALS AND MEDDLES
Tri-Colour Scatter Log
Natural Birth Colours: Pthalo / Sky / Grape
|
25/12/22 Scatter One: Ruby / Denim / Black 25/12/22 Scatter Two: Platinum / Sable / Camo 27/12/22 Scatter Three: Robin / Tomato / Orange 27/12/22 Scatter Four: Fuschia / Cottoncandy / Abyss 14/02/23 Scatter Five: Shadow / Banana / Steel 14/02/23 Scatter Six: Spring / Ruby / Midnight 03/05/23 Scatter Seven: Wine / Red / Copper 07/05/23 Scatter Eight: Azure / Crimson / Sable (the only thing stopping me from exalting you right now is that you're 3 years old and level 25) 16/06/23 Scatter Nine: Fern / Banana / Cerise |
"Don't assume."
A saying that Astaria found herself repeating more and more these days. Don't assume that obsidian shard will hold your weight; don't assume that our clan leader's well of patience is bottomless; don't assume I'll get you out of this one. She was Myffne's right-paw woman for three very good reasons; she was older, she was smarter, and she dispensed harsh wisdom to anyone who needed it.
Right now, it was Rotclaw. She'd gone to the Mire alone, and had been torn up pretty badly. She'd limped home and immediately come to find Astaria so she could be healed before Myffne found out. She was currently trying to hold the wound on the Wildclaw's haunches closed, blood gently oozing from the gash as she gathered her Breath.
"Don't assume what? That you'll actually heal me this time?" The Wildclaw hissed at her and the Spiral scoffed, the runes on her sides pulsing and gleaming with energy as she meditated.
"Don't assume that Myffne will tolerate this. We could've lost you, girl." Astaria sighed and Rotclaw shifted on her feet, falling into silence. She was leaning against a boulder, armor hanging from her haunches by half-torn leather straps. From the clean cuts, it looked like she'd been on the wrong end of a Kamaitachi or three. There was some bruised mashed flesh on Rotclaw's ankles and neck too that looked more like Toridae bite marks.
"How am I supposed to learn with you two babying me the entire time?" The feathers cresting her head fanned out as Rotclaw snapped her head around to snarl at Astaria, "This isn't how it's done back home. We fight. If we live we live, if we die we didn't deserve to live in the first place! You're just coddling me!"
Astaria leveled a glare right back and after a tense moment, the younger dragon huffed and looked away.
"You are not in the Scarred Wasteland anymore, Rotclaw. You won't learn any faster if you're dead." With that, Astaria cast her spell, and immediately the wound on the Wildclaw's leg began to close. Rotclaw heaved a sigh of relief as the pain faded. "Is that any better?"
"Yes." She stretched her muscles and took a few steps as Astaria floated away. Rotclaw's armour clanged against itself from where it hung from the torn leather straps. She tested by flexing and clenching her talons and seemed satisfied. "Thank you... I'm sorry for snapping. It hurt."
"Do you feel homesick?" Astaria asked softly as she wiped her claws free of blood using a rag. Rotclaw took a sharp intake of breath and shuffled her wings. Her feathery crest drooped.
"... a little. It's as hot here as it is back home, but... I didn't think I'd miss it so much. It stinks and it's torn up and everyone is sick all the time, but it was home. Do you miss the Steppes?"
"Of course I miss them, but all of us are here for a reason. I miss the Steppes but I don't miss them enough to go back and face what I left. I don't know what you're running from, but we're at home now. We insist on going with you because if you die, we lose you, and we love you. So we don't want to lose you. It's more than a fight to survival, to prove yourself; we're protecting each other and the rest of the Clan. We fight on behalf of the Flamecaller."
Rotclaw still didn't face Astaria, but she lifted her head.
"We do. And I'm grateful for Her and her Conflagration's hospitality."
"I won't tell Myffne what happened. Go get some rest." Astaria floated away to start cleaning. Rotclaw turned and bowed her head, snout resting on the warm stone underfoot, before she stood and left without a word.
A saying that Astaria found herself repeating more and more these days. Don't assume that obsidian shard will hold your weight; don't assume that our clan leader's well of patience is bottomless; don't assume I'll get you out of this one. She was Myffne's right-paw woman for three very good reasons; she was older, she was smarter, and she dispensed harsh wisdom to anyone who needed it.
Right now, it was Rotclaw. She'd gone to the Mire alone, and had been torn up pretty badly. She'd limped home and immediately come to find Astaria so she could be healed before Myffne found out. She was currently trying to hold the wound on the Wildclaw's haunches closed, blood gently oozing from the gash as she gathered her Breath.
"Don't assume what? That you'll actually heal me this time?" The Wildclaw hissed at her and the Spiral scoffed, the runes on her sides pulsing and gleaming with energy as she meditated.
"Don't assume that Myffne will tolerate this. We could've lost you, girl." Astaria sighed and Rotclaw shifted on her feet, falling into silence. She was leaning against a boulder, armor hanging from her haunches by half-torn leather straps. From the clean cuts, it looked like she'd been on the wrong end of a Kamaitachi or three. There was some bruised mashed flesh on Rotclaw's ankles and neck too that looked more like Toridae bite marks.
"How am I supposed to learn with you two babying me the entire time?" The feathers cresting her head fanned out as Rotclaw snapped her head around to snarl at Astaria, "This isn't how it's done back home. We fight. If we live we live, if we die we didn't deserve to live in the first place! You're just coddling me!"
Astaria leveled a glare right back and after a tense moment, the younger dragon huffed and looked away.
"You are not in the Scarred Wasteland anymore, Rotclaw. You won't learn any faster if you're dead." With that, Astaria cast her spell, and immediately the wound on the Wildclaw's leg began to close. Rotclaw heaved a sigh of relief as the pain faded. "Is that any better?"
"Yes." She stretched her muscles and took a few steps as Astaria floated away. Rotclaw's armour clanged against itself from where it hung from the torn leather straps. She tested by flexing and clenching her talons and seemed satisfied. "Thank you... I'm sorry for snapping. It hurt."
"Do you feel homesick?" Astaria asked softly as she wiped her claws free of blood using a rag. Rotclaw took a sharp intake of breath and shuffled her wings. Her feathery crest drooped.
"... a little. It's as hot here as it is back home, but... I didn't think I'd miss it so much. It stinks and it's torn up and everyone is sick all the time, but it was home. Do you miss the Steppes?"
"Of course I miss them, but all of us are here for a reason. I miss the Steppes but I don't miss them enough to go back and face what I left. I don't know what you're running from, but we're at home now. We insist on going with you because if you die, we lose you, and we love you. So we don't want to lose you. It's more than a fight to survival, to prove yourself; we're protecting each other and the rest of the Clan. We fight on behalf of the Flamecaller."
Rotclaw still didn't face Astaria, but she lifted her head.
"We do. And I'm grateful for Her and her Conflagration's hospitality."
"I won't tell Myffne what happened. Go get some rest." Astaria floated away to start cleaning. Rotclaw turned and bowed her head, snout resting on the warm stone underfoot, before she stood and left without a word.
Below is non-canon, I need to fix it
|
"How is Sade doing? I know you two had an argument a week or so ago. Has it been cleared up yet?" Astaria and Altoria were on one of their many twilight walks, skirting the edge of the magma pools and watching the night-shift miners claw feverishly at the new veins of iron that had been revealed the night prior. "... no. She doesn't seem to want to talk to me. It's all single-word answers, glances. She leaves a room when I come in." "That does sound like she doesn't want to be around you. But... what do you do around her? How do you respond to her questions? When she comes into a room, do you leave?" "I've been avoiding her because I thought she wanted to avoid me," Altoria sighed, pausing in her amble to preen at her scales a little before continuing. "I suppose in all your infinite wisdom you're going to say that we're both trying to read each other's minds and give each other space, when all the avoidance is just hurting us both more." "Yes, all my infinite wisdom would have said that. You know what else my infinite wisdom would say?" "'Don't presume'?" The Ridgeback said with a half-smirk. Altoria might not have been a mage but she certainly had plenty of snark. The two laughed softly, the gentle noise almost lost among the sound of picks and claws hitting stone and metal. Astaria had been about to say that, and her scaled cheeks flushed somewhat as she continued. "That's right. Maybe you two are second-guessing each other, and maybe you're not. But you're not going to gain anything by sitting about being miserable and confused about what you're doing wrong, and that goes for the both of you. My advice would be to take her to a tea-house or tavern and have a good long chat about things, because somehow you've turned a little tiff into a schism. Does that sound good?" The two stopped atop a fortified obsidian slab, watching the miners at work below them. Altoria was quiet for a long time, watching with intent the process of pulling ore from the volatile earth but eventually nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. You know, it's funny," she said with a half-chuckle, "I've learned everything there is to know about our world from books and scrolls, but the minute it comes to issues with other dragons and... romance," the word took a few spare moments to come out, and Astaria nodded sagely in support, "it's like I'm a hatchling again. I do appreciate your wisdom, Astaria." "So does everybody else," The Spiral grinned, and the two laughed again. |
|
Art by the wonderful @Straka. Go support them HERE!
Mage Healer/Support.
Fully Stoned.
Fully Stoned.
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
Feed this dragon Insects.
Feed this dragon Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
You can share this dragon on the forums by either copying the browser URL manually, or using bbcode!
Exalting Astaria to the service of the Flamecaller will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
Do you wish to continue?
- Names must be longer than 2 characters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.
- Names must be no longer than 16 characters.
- Names can only contain letters.