Loa

“Not all dragons appear as who they truly are. Many hide dark secrets within themselves even if viewed in an innocent way unknowingly,” The gentle voice of the imperial drifts through the garden she tends, the petals swaying softly in the breeze created by her magnificent wings, swirling and dark like the storm clouds above. Silky robes drift around her as she lands, her wings and head held high proudly as she looks at the newcomer, continuing her tales. “Much like some animals you can find. Bright, beautiful arrays of color may catch your eye, enticing you closer, only to drop you dead in a heartbeat with the wrong move.” Her soft voice gains an edge ever so slightly, eyes narrowing for just a moment before her face relaxes again and the warm features return.

“Most have a warning call, some last resort if the colors don’t dissuade from those brave - or perhaps stupid - enough to venture closer. Plants have no such thing,” she strokes the velvety petals of the flower next to her. It’s vibrant red and yellow colors fan upwards as if reaching toward the sky - a stark contrast against her soft pink and muted blue colors. “It’s clever, really.” She picks the flower from its stem, twirling it carefully between her ink-colored claws, studying it. With a soft chuckle, she places the fire lily within the basket at her hip. “One would have to be wise enough to tell the difference, though.”

She eyes the plants around her, taking account of each one carefully. Her garden is magnificent, organized and chaotic as vines hang from above, reaching to the blossoms below them that reach ever higher to the sunlight. Arrays of colors mix and mingle, purples, reds, whites, and blues all creating an artistic display that only nature could provide. Beyond the vines, hidden behind them ever so cleverly, though, sits a row of plants shaded from the direct sunlight. They have an air of familiarity but are so exotically different that one cannot place where they belong. Colors swirl together, creating fantastical patterns as if enticing those unsuspecting to draw closer.

As if catching the gaze of the newcomer, Loa shifts in front of their view, wings fanning out beside her ever so slightly as she stares downwards. Her eyes harden, the vibrant green darkening and becoming sharper, her voice becoming cold with warning - her warning.

“Sometimes the most beautiful things are the most dangerous.”