Thelxinoe
(#63011005)
To the gentlemen Im Miss Fortune, to the ladies Im Sir Prize
Familiar
Maren Scout
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 42/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Plague.
Female Skydancer
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.86 m
Wingspan
6.64 m
Weight
457.49 kg
Genetics
Royal
Petals
Petals
Royal
Butterfly
Butterfly
Mint
Glimmer
Glimmer
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Skydancer
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
9
INT
9
VIT
4
MND
9
Biography
T H E L X I N O E
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Singer • Lawful Evil • Fearless • Forceful • Mysterious
Singer • Lawful Evil • Fearless • Forceful • Mysterious
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STATISTICS Strength ██░░░░░░░░ Dexterity █████░░░░░ Intelligence █████████░ Charisma ██░░░░░░░░ Perception ████████░░ Constitution █░░░░░░░░░ Orientation   |
BIOGRAPHY
She who charms the mind . . .
There is a cold spring breeze blowing this evening, filling the air with a cutting chill. The snow may have melted, and the flowers emerged anew, but the spring is cruel and fearsome this year. Your body shivers, even beneath your winter coat, as you gaze at the stars. Tonight is a dark night, the moon barely visible behind heavy clouds. Only a few scarce pinpricks of light dotted across the blackness, casting odd shadows in the forest around you. You are here tonight because you are a wanderer. Your soul demands adventure, even in the coldest of winter, when your wings are laden down with snow, and your voice hoarse from calling to no-one and nothing. You have spent many a night alone, speaking to the heavens. Tonight you are not alone, although you have yet to realize it. You draw your coat closer to your furred chest and shiver, wondering what reason brought you to this dark forest. Truthfully, you are finding that a little hard to remember, beneath the chilling sky. As though your mind were slowly being whittled away by the breeze. It is almost as though the trees are calling to you, as they dance in the wind. Their dire forms twisting and turning, cascading branches reaching out to you in the dark. A beautiful song emerges from the depths of the forest. Hauntingly mesmerizing, the ethereal voice fills the inside of your head, gripping you with a strange intensity. But it does not warm you, even as you find yourself hypnotized. The cold only cuts deeper into you, seeking exposed flesh with chilling violence. Despite yourself, you venture deeper, forgetting the path and losing yourself to the forest’s song. Perhaps if you find the source of this voice, you will be happy, you think. You will have found the subject of all your searching, and your wandering can come to an end. Your mind is spinning, the forest seemingly disappearing around you. For a moment you can see yourself beneath a thickly boughed tree, singing beautifully. The dragon is you, yet it is not. Your coat is now of the richest crimson leather, instead of the shabby faded cloth that it is now. The erratic coloring of your mane and tail have been faded, kissed with a tricolor blend that makes your entire persona seem more dignified, and vastly more beautiful. Your golden eyes fixate on you, and a secret smile spreads across your face, without interrupting your singing. Golden eyes of the Light Flight, you see. The Flight that took you in as a child, when you were a Plague refugee. The Flight that cared for you and raised you and tried to love you, but that eventually had to send you away, because Plague and Light will always be enemies. A tear of desire sparkles in your red gaze, as you imagine a world in which you had been a Light dragon, beautiful and wealthy. With satisfaction and strength rippling beneath your pelt, because you had already traveled the world and discovered all of its secrets. For a moment you can almost see yourself at the top of a mountain, gesturing broadly to a crowd of admirers, as the song continues to fill your ears. The wind howls loudly enough to break the song’s chorus, for the barest second, and the illusion is gone. You are back in the dark, chilling forest, your shoulders bare and coat missing. In front of you is a Skydancer, her head thrown back in song, speaking mysteries to the stars. She is still captivating, even without the illusion. There is something hypnotizing about her feathered form, even if she is not as beautiful as some dragons that you had met. Her song truly is mesmerizing, however, making your head swell with love and desire and passion. You want to be that beautiful dragon that she showed you, through her song. You want to dance beneath the forest and pretend, for one night, that you are capable of creating anything as breathtaking as the melody emerging from her beak. You want to listen to her forever and never leave this forest. Even with the cold biting into your heart, you never want to leave. She has taken your coat and sung to hypnotize you, winding her form against yours with a smug smile. You can feel the frost overtaking you, but cannot summon an ounce of fear. This is how all things should be, you think, and are content. The greatest honor that any artist can be given is for a viewer to die for their art. You will freeze here, forgotten in the forest, but you will die happy. She will sing for you and give you wonderful dreams, and in return, you will allow the cold to creep into your heart and still its beating. When the morning comes, you will be alone, and you will be cold and empty. She will have left you at the break of dawn, to return to the mysterious land in which she was born. But in a year’s time the Siren will travel to another lonely, dark forest, to sing to another lost traveler. To guide another lonely soul into their dreams, until they succumb to the thrall of her voice and are lost to the forest. 
Noe
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