Zinnia

Zinnia sauntered along the outskirts of her clan, picking flowers as she went. Every color, shape, and size-but the orange flowers she was named for were her favorite. Every ounce of her felt at all times as though it might burst out and become one with nature. She wasn’t much of one for socialization with other dragons; she belonged to the Windsinger and the flora he breathed through.

Other passerby came by her. She hissed as a veil of swampy hair covered her thin, hollow face. They flew from her as fast as they could. She threw herself back into her element, gently brushing her talons over the delicate petals, but never tearing one. A gentle leaf rapped on her shoulder as she melted into the grass.

She turned to face Leif, her other half-her partner in crime, I suppose. He was the only fauna that Zinnia could call home. He smelled like the forest and felt like the wind. Two yellowed, glowing eyes blinked innocently from under a bush of thick leaves. She laughed as he bounced through the tall reeds in his terracotta pot. Leif was the only one who could make her laugh.

As nightfall came, Zinnia grew afraid. She had always wanted to stay for nightfall in the forest, even though she had been warned against it her whole life. She knew the trees, and they would speak to her. The wind grew to a howl as the trees bent over, bowing to Zinnia. She followed their gnarled trail to the end of the tangled wood, where she clapped eyes on a creature Sornieth had never seen. Somewhere between a stag and a Skydancer, it stood tall and lanky. Its figure was thin, yet dominating. It was made of stardust, leaves, and wind; Zinnia’s true friends. With a sort of brusque tranquility, she reached out to touch it.

Bio wrote by: @Ambervale