Constance

-- GARDENER --

He had discovered the clan young, but no one took him in, no one offered a warm bed, a warm home, a warm smile. Instead the few that gave him attention only gave him a hot plate of food outside, rushed him to eat, then rushed him to go away. He didn't understand. He'd wandered the town, but those of the Council seemed to scorn him, they seemed repulsed, frightened, even, and the imperial couldn't understand why.

He's long since made his home on the furthest fringes of the clan territory, having worked the soil and found Dragonhome plants to grow. It's not much of a living, but it supports him, especially now that he has the help of a veilspun named Baharah. He doesn't understand what he's done wrong beyond his birth, but perhaps it's best he doesn't know. He lives an alright life growing, studying, and trading crop.

Until there wasn't anyone to trade with. Those of clan Cascarone seemed to have disappeared, leaving young hatchlings in their stead. Those adults left over either stayed (in the case of Aldyth) or left to travel (Dust, Stalagmite/tite, and their demigod). It's strange to listen to the wind blow through empty caverns, but perhaps he can make himself a new home in the space while helping the young hatchlings, the new council, fall into their roles.