BonFoooey

It was a glorious autumn day. The air was crisp but the sunlight warmed the furr as two Goalers flew lazily across a forest ablaze in the colors of fire.

The quiet of the day was suddenly shattered by a thundering whoop, immediately followed by the wild careening screeches as birds from the trees below scattered in all directions. A moment later, the streaking form of a light colored dragon came bursting through the forest canopy, accompanied by the caterwauling sound of "BONFOOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEY!" echoing through the air.

Buffeted by the noise, the travelers pulled up short to watch the streak of motion as it soared straight up towards the sun, up, up, up , until twisting so that his golden belly faced the light, he began a casual twisting spiral, eyes closed, basking as the wind blew through his furr. Then with a sudden twist, he was zooming high again before with a graceful flip of his ginormous body, he careened back toward the earth, his hollering voice following. When he slammed through the wall of foliage, there was an eruption of orange, red and yellow leaves, immediately joined by the disrupted birds that had just resettled in the woods below.

The dark dragon watching gave a deep chuckle before, canting his head to his mate. Though intrigued, she had however, caught sight of an open glenn below filled with a riot of color mirroring her own. Smiling she pointed before banking a turn toward it. But her eyes twinkled as her head nodded him on toward the exuberant dragon who was once again heading upwards. Nodding back, he continued forward.

Warily, he kept his eyes on the other who was following the same flight pattern. When he flipped over again, the dark one realized it was a young adult Gaoler, colored gold and white, with the most unusual pair of wings he had ever seen. Their webbing was a pattern of red and black squares.

As he drew closer, the other dragon slowly shifted upright to hoover before him. A large grin lit his face.
"Quite a glorious day for a flight, isn't it?" resonated his deep voice.

Usually able to keep a straight face when observing someone new, the visitor wasn't able to this time. There was something so rambunctious and joyful about the youth that he responded with a smile of his own. "Indeed. And that was some War Cry you have."

A shadow flickered momentarily in the golden dragon's eyes. "I don't do War Cries. That was my Celebration Bellow."

"Good name for it. I'm called Etoiles Morthaunt. I don't do War Cries anymore either."

"You don't look like a dead star to me."

A thoughtful look crossed the slightly older dragon. "More like a fallen star sent on a new path. What about you?"

"They call me BonFooey," he replied, dipping his head in greeting.

"Ah. After the Celebration Bellow."

Spirit flared in the youth as he gave a wolfish grin. "Care to join me?"

Anticipation lept through his veins as Etoiles replied, "Only if later you join my mate and our Tribe for a meal. I think you'd enjoy yourself. And I guarantee they'll enjoy you."

BonFooey eyed the dragon before him, his keen eyes fully aware of the excitement burning within the other. Without warning, his lean body arced upwards. Teasing laughter followed. "Try to keep up, old one."

"Old one indeed," thought Etoiles, furling his wings out full in a blast of strength that sent him racing toward the younger dragon. This was going to be fun.


As well know, the Sun above calls to BonFoooey. Its energy burns so brightly within him that it cannot be contained. It would consume him if he were unable to release it in motion, speed, sound and dance. I'm sure if Abuelita had known him in his youth, his wild ways would have caused her no end of worry.
You've all seen him zip and swirl in the air, streak through a forest, or dive from great heights almost faster than the eye can see. But he has not always done so without causing himself injury.

When he was young- older than a hatchling but still young toward becoming a grown dragon, BonFoooey traveled from the southern lands. Born with wings that matched in color his furr, their strength propelled him twisting and diving in a madcap dance of wild energy that one day found him in a wooded area he'd never been before.

Not a wise thing to do.

The trees in this forest grew closer together then he anticipated. Their twisted, gnarly branches ended in sharpened points caused by breakage from the killing ice of harsh winters so far south. In Autumn, one could not see the danger because of the top layer of colorful leaves. As he sped into unknown terrain, one of his wings clipped against a thick set of branches. His balance shattered, and he began to rebound off trees within his path as careened forward.

Pain lanced through BonFoooey's wings. Thick furr and horns protected the rest of his body, but by the time he crashed to an abrupt stop aided by an especially large tree, his wings were punctured and shredded by the countless sharp branches he had hurled through. His howls of pain reverberated through the woods until his wounds overcame him. BonFoooey fell unconscious to the ground.

Later, when he awoke there was still throbbing pain but it was no longer unbearable. Glancing around, it appeared that he was in the hollow of an ancient tree. Wil o' wisps flittered about, casting pale light. The floor he laid upon was covered in pine boughs. Upon stretching to inspect his surroundings further, BonFoooey grimaced as a new wave of agony lanced through him. Trying to gently shift so he could ascertain the full extent of the damage, his brow took on a perplexed look. His wounds appeared to be covered with some soft woven material, patterned with red and black squares.

Movement flickered in the corner of his eyes. Turning to look, he found a dryad watching him. She had green hair, and a leafy tail. Her body was covered in bark, and she was clothed with a shimmering of green leaves. Eyes the same color watched him warily as she moved forward to place a container with fruit, berries and tuber roots near him.

A whisper, soft as the wind, asked, "How are you feeling?"

Realizing that to her eyes, he must seem quite large and frightening, BonFoooey attempted to keep his voice soft as he answered. "Better. How did you get me here?" The words came out deep and gravely, but the female did not flinch.

"We had help." His voice seemed to have drawn attention as another ducked inside the shelter. "I wouldn't advice much movement; your wings are far from healed. We merely patched them up as best we could, and did what we could to dull your pain."

The dragon's eyes swept over the male standing before him He had only heard tell of female dryads, but this one resembled her somewhat. His green skin was wrinkled and he walked bent with the aid of a tree branch. Two smallish trees appeared to grow from his back, almost like a pair of wings. Leaves clothed him also, and the bright swath of green hair looked just like the female's. Her Sire perhaps.

Seeing the question in the gold dragon's eyes, the man explained that he was a Gladegift Ambassador, Blessed by the Gladekeeper herself, and tasked with aiding those within this forest. Unfortunately, while the Ambassador was knowledgeable about the medicinal purposes of flora within his home forest, he did not have magic to hasten the healing.

As he listened, BonFoooey saw the dryad sink to the soft ground at her Sire's feet, her eyes never leaving his face. She wasn't frightened; merely aware. "I thank you for the aid you have given me." Looking between the two, he gave a very small shift of one wingtip. "And the covering?"

The girl answered. After applying a salve to the gaping wounds, they had feared infection. To cover them, she had used a soft fabric once lost in the woods to bind the skin together for safekeeping while healing. She knew it was quite colorful but it was all she had. Realizing she worried he would be angered, BonFoooey sought to reassure her. It was his own foolish actions that had caused the damage. He was quite grateful for their help, unworthy as he was for it.

It took many months for the wounds to heal enough that he could fly again. To say he was not afraid he might not be able to would have been untrue. Autumn turned to Winter, and then into Spring. The Ambassador and his daughter, Marukka, gladly welcomed him into their home even though it meant more work for them to provide food for a still growing dragon. He helped as he could when his body began to heal further. He certainly didn't mind the time spent with them. Their den was cozy and warm, filled with laughter and good food. Never before had had he known such companionship.

In the Spring, when his body was ready, he felt the yearning to explore calling him onward, but he would never forget his first Home, nor the Friends who cared for him. The scraps of material on his wings eventually began to fade and rip away, much to his dismay. Missing their color, and the reminder of his Friends, BonFoooey began searching for one adept in magic that could do what he requested. Eventually one was found who could magic the wings with the pattern Marukka has so carefully patched his injuries with. Whenever he catches sight of them, happiness fills him full.




Special thanks to MythDancer, who suggested the Barkskin Dryad and the Gladegift Ambassador when I was asking about familiars. Even though she had no real idea what I was looking for, they were exactly perfect for BonFoooey's Lore!