Arkham

This is a child of Ichorus. They spit off from their parent body and have the potential to grow into their own dragon.

https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/drs/2874253

WIP:

A whole life in darkness, surrounded by silence, that was what Arkham dreamed her first night in the strange refuge of the Citadel. She dreamed of a life long ago and far away, in a land across the ocean, in lands where the sun rose and scorched the earth. But this life contained no sunrises, only dimness and blindness by night.

She remembered or thought she remembered the sweetness of a cabbage heart, the tart taste of plums, the crunch of apples, the greasy delight of roasted fish. But maybe "remembered" wasn't the right word...

"Born" into darkness and "raised" alone, Arkham had never seen faces until she saw them in the firelight, all of them looking at her as she was led from the cave for the first time, which was the only time. So that was what dragons looked like. Everything was so new. So strange. And yet...there it was, that twinge of recognition, of remembering something from long ago, from before Arkham was ever really Arkham. The bonfire light hurt her eyes. They pulled on the rope around her neck, to lead her to the unguarded gate...