Hylin

there had been no nymphlets left. the river had run dry, and the species' creation, end and all that lay inbetween rested with the few remaining ancients, their breath shallow and eyes dull. degradation had taken its toll. the cycle of life on the mountain staggered; birds fell from the sky, the wilds grew barren.
but one spring brought promise. where for decades calypso's eggs refused to flourish, one finally took to the current, and a nymphlet emerged from it. as small as a pebble, the tadpole-like creature splashed about in the stagnant waters. he fed and grew, and for the river nymphs, brought hope of an era anew.

can communicate with animals. has an accent because his first language is nymph.


Art by PurpleTartan

was hatched with crystal/shim/underbelly.