Wheat
(#61062421)
It's not your fault, but it's in your veins.
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Fire.
Female Pearlcatcher
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
6.95 m
Wingspan
5.32 m
Weight
473.71 kg
Genetics
Moss
Jaguar
Jaguar
Orange
Fissure
Fissure
Bronze
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Pearlcatcher
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
6
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
6
MND
7
Biography
"It's not about the flavor or the way the juices run down your throat. It wasn't really about the hunger either. Of course, there was a certain longing to it, but we are all lonesome creatures at our core. It is the texture that draws you in. The way the flesh tears and the bones crack, wielding to something just barely stronger than themselves.
Killing is an awful thing, taking something that is so incomprehensible from this world with something so mindless as violence. There is a power to it. A rush of adrenalin, the feeling of being the hunter. Many forget their prey will fight back. If you step on a snake it will strike you, catch a lizard it will bite you. Even such small and harmless creatures will hurt you if they feel their lives are at risk.
There is a rage to it on both sides. The atrocity of witnessing someone else try to take the greatest thing you will ever be given and the denial of that rush as your victim turns on you. It's difficult being on either side, because now that you are both alive and overly aware of your own beating heart and gasping breaths, you understand you will do anything to keep it that way. You know that the person across from you will not hesitate to kill you, to take that incredible thing away from you. Whether they want it or not.
I don't think I regret it, not when I know the alternative. At the very least, I can reassure you I was not the aggressor, not until the very end. I never learned his identity or his intentions, why he attempted to take my life. Perhaps it had something to do with my parents, my mother was absent long before I hatched, but I had three fathers to easily fill that gap. The one wasn't really my father, he was more akin to a glorified uncle, but I saw him as another parent. Heavens knows he was around often enough for me to see him as one, in fact, he was more present for my childhood than either of my actual parents.
It was my dad that worried me, he disappeared when I was incredibly young. Only the vaguest memories remain of him, something about an arranged marriage gone wrong and vibrant blue fur. He was born of some important bloodline, though all imperial are of divine blood, that is the spirit of their breed after all.
It would not be very far-fetched if this had been more than just a sporadic attack. Instead, a final gift from my long lost nurturer. It's unfortunate all my known family are travelers. They are impossible to track down at this point. I cannot ask them any more questions about my heritage. Even if I'm not even a blood relative of the imperial, it is obvious many still see me as his genuine offspring. If I’m to believe that this dragon had truly been after me specifically.
Possible assassination attempts aside I had a great family. we traveled often, my father was a bard and my uncle a jester. Neither profession suited me. It was the traveling that I loved, the world was always alight with new wonders. Unfortionantly the fascination tends to dull as time runs on and the veil they put over the world for my young eyes suddenly dropped. Exposed to the everlasting war and its violence, at this point I don't quite remember who we are fighting against. My eyes are orange, though I spent so little time within that kingdom I can barely grasp what that means.
As awful as it seemed at the time, most dragons' offspring will leave their nurtures. Sometimes before either party is ready, or truly aware of it happening. The deserts are so empty it would be difficult to lose sight of any of their traveling companions no matter how far they wander, and the many trade routes are well-traveled enough to be impossible to miss. It’s the game trails that cut through the forests you have to be wary of, it's far too easy to become lost within the woods even when you're not following the whims of beasts.
The day I lost sight of my father in that dark and humid forest was the last time I would ever see him. I wandered that forest for months searching for any sign of him, and by the end of my plight I knew he was long gone. It was pure luck that I stumbled into the tundra. Both of us were young, having just barely reached adulthood and still growing into it. The tundra was blind but held an ingrained sense of direction that would put most compasses to shame. It was our love of travel that brought us together, the need to be constantly on the move.
It wasn’t until the attack that I finally felt forced to settle. The threat on my life, the fear of being hunted finally overwhelmed the need to run. I didn’t like to think of it as cowering, as hiding, because that isn’t what this is. The tundra has always been drawn to this place, she never quite told me why but it must have something to do with the way she bares her teeth at those who’s eyes reflect hers. I never thought it was green that contradicted red, and perhaps I was right. She fits in so well here, though she doesn’t fully remember why she remains. I don’t have the heart to blame her for forgetting.
The beginning of my story makes me sound rather malicious, that isn’t quite true. In fact, I am a rather benign creature. It’s just that, like you, I am a beast that consumes flesh and with that flesh often comes unfavorable memories. We are held captive by our nature, the nature to eat and the nature to remember. It’s a pity we can’t all hold the memories of a tundra, though there are things I long for her to remember."
Killing is an awful thing, taking something that is so incomprehensible from this world with something so mindless as violence. There is a power to it. A rush of adrenalin, the feeling of being the hunter. Many forget their prey will fight back. If you step on a snake it will strike you, catch a lizard it will bite you. Even such small and harmless creatures will hurt you if they feel their lives are at risk.
There is a rage to it on both sides. The atrocity of witnessing someone else try to take the greatest thing you will ever be given and the denial of that rush as your victim turns on you. It's difficult being on either side, because now that you are both alive and overly aware of your own beating heart and gasping breaths, you understand you will do anything to keep it that way. You know that the person across from you will not hesitate to kill you, to take that incredible thing away from you. Whether they want it or not.
I don't think I regret it, not when I know the alternative. At the very least, I can reassure you I was not the aggressor, not until the very end. I never learned his identity or his intentions, why he attempted to take my life. Perhaps it had something to do with my parents, my mother was absent long before I hatched, but I had three fathers to easily fill that gap. The one wasn't really my father, he was more akin to a glorified uncle, but I saw him as another parent. Heavens knows he was around often enough for me to see him as one, in fact, he was more present for my childhood than either of my actual parents.
It was my dad that worried me, he disappeared when I was incredibly young. Only the vaguest memories remain of him, something about an arranged marriage gone wrong and vibrant blue fur. He was born of some important bloodline, though all imperial are of divine blood, that is the spirit of their breed after all.
It would not be very far-fetched if this had been more than just a sporadic attack. Instead, a final gift from my long lost nurturer. It's unfortunate all my known family are travelers. They are impossible to track down at this point. I cannot ask them any more questions about my heritage. Even if I'm not even a blood relative of the imperial, it is obvious many still see me as his genuine offspring. If I’m to believe that this dragon had truly been after me specifically.
Possible assassination attempts aside I had a great family. we traveled often, my father was a bard and my uncle a jester. Neither profession suited me. It was the traveling that I loved, the world was always alight with new wonders. Unfortionantly the fascination tends to dull as time runs on and the veil they put over the world for my young eyes suddenly dropped. Exposed to the everlasting war and its violence, at this point I don't quite remember who we are fighting against. My eyes are orange, though I spent so little time within that kingdom I can barely grasp what that means.
As awful as it seemed at the time, most dragons' offspring will leave their nurtures. Sometimes before either party is ready, or truly aware of it happening. The deserts are so empty it would be difficult to lose sight of any of their traveling companions no matter how far they wander, and the many trade routes are well-traveled enough to be impossible to miss. It’s the game trails that cut through the forests you have to be wary of, it's far too easy to become lost within the woods even when you're not following the whims of beasts.
The day I lost sight of my father in that dark and humid forest was the last time I would ever see him. I wandered that forest for months searching for any sign of him, and by the end of my plight I knew he was long gone. It was pure luck that I stumbled into the tundra. Both of us were young, having just barely reached adulthood and still growing into it. The tundra was blind but held an ingrained sense of direction that would put most compasses to shame. It was our love of travel that brought us together, the need to be constantly on the move.
It wasn’t until the attack that I finally felt forced to settle. The threat on my life, the fear of being hunted finally overwhelmed the need to run. I didn’t like to think of it as cowering, as hiding, because that isn’t what this is. The tundra has always been drawn to this place, she never quite told me why but it must have something to do with the way she bares her teeth at those who’s eyes reflect hers. I never thought it was green that contradicted red, and perhaps I was right. She fits in so well here, though she doesn’t fully remember why she remains. I don’t have the heart to blame her for forgetting.
The beginning of my story makes me sound rather malicious, that isn’t quite true. In fact, I am a rather benign creature. It’s just that, like you, I am a beast that consumes flesh and with that flesh often comes unfavorable memories. We are held captive by our nature, the nature to eat and the nature to remember. It’s a pity we can’t all hold the memories of a tundra, though there are things I long for her to remember."
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