Guntir

A hatchling frozen still, spirit flying free, but body frozen in the cradling wings of a dead elder. The oldest Bane in the flock, he doesn't know he is dead. He is terrified of Gaolers and feeling trapped, especially in small places. He remembers the elders cradling the eggs and humming softly. The adults flying out and singing of Victory.

He didn't remember them coming back.

But the fur mountains? Those he remembers. How they stalked into the magma caves, how the elders fled to the nests as the remaining adults flew fearlessly into righteous battle. Guntir was snatched up, a blast of frigid air landing in a starburst where he had frozen in confusion.

The song, the last song, trembling as the cold filtered in and the elder that had grabbed Guntir shivering.

A blast of frigid liquid flooded the chamber, making many try and flee upwards where they were lost. The elders crouched over the nests, Guntir chirping and the elder shushing him.

Then everything gets foggy. All the Banescales encased in thick, opaque sheets of ice. Guntir couldn't move. The elder was quiet above him and that scared him more. His claws tapped against the ice with a soft panicked cheep.

The furred mountains came in, ice at their feet and disdain in their eyes. One, that all of them listened to, looked dead at Guntir and his defender. He squeaked, trying to tap against the ice encasing him and his elder. She blinked, heavy head lowering. His heart leaped, calling for her help even if the others were wary of them.

But she passed him, walking towards the eggs. Then they filled the cavern with ice.

Guntir screamed.

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This lore was written by my lovely friend TrashMomma!

Guntir screamed, but the years passed by. Hazy grey gloom, the.. the... the corpses of the elders above him, the unhatched eggs around him, the other Banescale hatchlings that simply lost the fighting battle to live... sinking down in their domes, their hidden nests where the bodies laid there in eternal silence.

There was nothing left, and as time passed- did it pass? Was it passing? Was Guntir stuck in perpetual hell, forever doomed to be caught up and scrunched in this dome until he grew too big, until the dome forced his body into unnatural poses and growths?

Panic overwhelmed him, and he screed, chirped, claws digging against the ice, but never making any impact, he would die without making any impact on the world he barely knew above.

Time, time, passing by, passing like his brethren, his body slowly wasting away, curling into a smaller and smaller ball, nothing left to do but cry... and even then, his voice gave up on him, left him to suffer in utter silence.

Utter silence does things to the mind, it does things to the soul, and his soul was shattering every second that passed by. Nothing left; nothing left was that his family he heard singing, was that his brethren he heard singing, what was the crackling, what was that popping, what what what, he has friends, friends in the ice, black squirming friends who couldn't reach him but wait crackling, popping?

His head shot up, hitting the ice much quicker now, and he saw the glow, and it pulled him, pulling him towards the ice and he clawed, but now he could claw faster, claw bigger, his voice long forgotten coming back, ragged chirps and gasps fighting out, and he could hear the sizzle oh yes oh YES THE LAVA THE FIRE THE FIRE SAVE ME SAVE ME PLEASE

The ice melted under the lava, bringing forth the air, and Guntir gasped, freeing himself, breaking through and fly upwards, upwards, upwards- and he burst through, a rampant, glorious scree showing through he was free he was FREE HE WAS FREE-

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By Shuppet!


By ArcanicUsva, multitalented friend!

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Talktotransformer prompts!

-the silver ice melted away, the solid rocks and snow transformed into meteors hurling towards Guntir as he rose, the bones of the giant head flapping around him as he flew, turning him into a plummeting comet plummeting towards the ground... A red hand slid over his chest, squeezing his lung with a sickening, metallic grip as he died. As the thin bits of ice on his face melted away to reveal a jet black face it was impossible for Guntir to hear anything other than the buzzing...
***
Guntir has a condition called cerebellar hypoplasia. This means that the part of his brain that coordinates movement never fully developed. He's not in any pain, and he won't get worse over time, though there also aren't any treatments that would help him. He had a difficult time getting enough food in his system as a hatchling, but his foster parent, Ravage, begrudgingly nurtured him with a lot of love and care indifference and hate, and he was able to grow into the wonderful little drake he is now.

Guntir adapts to his condition by walking with his legs and wings a bit wider, leaning against the wall for support (or his dad), and using claws to climb up and down things. Guntir is a very happy hatchling who loves playing with his caretakers and friends, eating meals and treats, and cuddling with his parent (no matter how he may grumble!)