Gure
(#66381)
Level 7 Tundra
Familiar
Harvest Floracat
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Ice.
Female Tundra
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.74 m
Wingspan
2.6 m
Weight
227.24 kg
Genetics
Charcoal
Poison
Poison
Avocado
Shimmer
Shimmer
Green
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 7 Tundra
EXP: 7398 / 11881
STR
17
AGI
15
DEF
13
QCK
11
INT
15
VIT
21
MND
14
Biography
Gure the Tundra has had an incredibly long history with IceFall. In fact, she was involved in its very founding, discovering the newly formed Guardian ShadowStrike as he awoke in a frosty glade.
Adult dragons turned up like this from time to time, seemingly suffering some form of amnesia, unaware of their immediate whereabouts or previous history. His dark and mighty frame trembled as he rose from the stiff grass. Cool, crystalline eyes settled on her, and she was filled with a sense of fear, as well as curiosity. His voice, a deep rumble, stated that his title was ShadowStrike, and that his goal was to build a new clan in the name of the Icewarden. Gure blinked up at him. "Well then, I suppose you'll need a guide to help you identify local flora and fauna?" The great beast gazed down at her, and nodded his head but once.
For the next year, Gure educated ShadowStrike on all of the plants, creatures, and landmarks of the Southern Icefield. Despite his quiet demeanor, she learned that he was very intelligent, remembering what he had learned whenever she gave him pop quizzes. Their burgeoning clan was named IceFall. They moved about a bit and, as their clan grew larger, eventually carved out a massive lair for themselves in the Fortress of Ends. This area was inhospitable to all but the most steadfast of clans. After carving out a chamber, she sought the assistance of some of IceFall's varied inhabitants. From the Arcane dragons she received magical lanterns, capable of providing light strong enough to provide benefits equivalent to tiny suns. From the Fire dragons she took heat-producing rocks. The inner workings of these rocks were a mystery to all but the flameborn, but she had an idea of how to put them to good use. From the Water dragons, she commissioned large hanging contraptions capable of, once filled with water, spilling mist into the space below. The lair's Earth dragons provided her with both dark organic soil and finely crafted earthenware pots. Finally, the Nature dragons gifted her many of the seeds, plants, and saplings they had brought from their previous homes. After several days, Gure sat down upon her furry rump and gazed at the fruits of her labor. IceFall now had its very own greenhouse. The lair's herbivorous dragons would never have to worry about the cold climate killing off spring greens, summer fruits, or autumnal harvests.
Gure and ShadowStrike's relationship was mostly that of companionship. ShadowStrike rarely affirmed it, but he held Gure and her knowledge about the natural world in high regard. Despite this, the two dragons couldn't help but notice the underlying feelings they held for each other. After some time, they produced a small clutch of offspring, a set of three little female Tundras. Kanashi matured into adulthood and, like many newly matured dragons, set out on a journey of her own. She settled with an unknown clan, produced many offspring of her own, before eventually choosing to serve the Plaguebringer. Like her sister Kanashi, Hane also followed a similar path, leaving IceFall and joining another clan, having offspring, and eventually moving on to serve the Icewarden. The last of the trio, Hanran, found herself joining a large Wind clan. While having no offspring of her own, she had her own adventures, and at one point underwent a mysterious transformation into a Gaoler, gaining a shaggier and somewhat more feral appearance.
After their children had departed IceFall, Gure and ShadowStrike parted ways, romantically. Gure felt increasingly uneasy, and began taking long walks through the snow-covered spruce forest outside the lair. Unsatisfied. Stir-crazy. One morning, Gure finally broke. She had never intended to actually leave without a word. But once she was at the forest's edge, she knew she wouldn't be able to gather the courage to tell her old friend that she was leaving. So, she simply left. And yet, her departure did not go unnoticed. ShadowStrike watched as his first friend and lover in the world of Sornieth walked into the spruces, out of his sight. He rose from the frigid lake in which he had been resting, ice clinging to his beard. ShadowStrike was always very conservative with his emotions, and many of IceFall's inhabitants would describe their leader as aloof. And yet, as he returned to the lair's inner chambers, it was difficult to determine whether the water descending the scales of his face originated from the lake, or from his sealed eyelids.
Despite traveling alone, Gure had years of nomadic wisdom and survival skills. She traveled throughout the regions of the Southern Icefield, eventually becoming a groundskeeper for one of the vast scrub gardens that the Icewarden maintained to feed his lesser cohorts. She excelled at this, and over the course of several months, she taught several apprentices. However, even this began to feel stagnant after some time. After seeking the blessing of one of the Icewarden's disciples and appointing one of her former students as the new groundskeeper, she departed. This time, she chose not to remain in the Southern Icefield.
Gure crossed the Frigid Floes until she reached the very last floating chunk of ice. Taking a deep breath to strengthen her resolve, she stepped onto the plains surrounding the Crystalspine Reaches, the Arcane Flight's very tall, very pink mountain range. Growing alongside the Reaches was the Starwood Strand, a large magical forest known for its evening beauty. Gure shook the last of the ice from her fuzzy locks and began weaving through the trees. To her disgust, she eventually arrived at the Scarred Wasteland. For a Tundra, their sense of smell was much keener than their eyesight, and both friend and foe were easily identified by their scent. Gure's nose wrinkled at the overpowering stench of decay, the sulfurous fumes of rot, the acrid smell of bile. Determined not to travel further inland, she skirted the edge of the Plague Flight's domain until reaching the Tangled Wood. Even in broad daylight, this forest remained shrouded in darkness. Quietly, she traveled through dense trees, always keenly aware of dozens of pairs of eyes watching her. At this point in her travels, she was exhausted, but knew that to stop to rest, in a dangerous place such as this, could result in death. Many of the dragons that lived here, Mirrors in particular, were skilled in the ways of hunting in the dark. While most dragon species would only eat other dragons as a result of a last resort upon starvation, Mirror dragons were known for their savagery, as well as their constant quests to sate their hunger. Shadow Mirrors, as such, would be particularly dangerous. Gure only hoped that if they fell upon her, the predators would decide she was eighty percent fur and leave her be. A Tundra's teeth and breath attacks were their only weapons, their horns and fur their only defense. She didn't relish her chances of survival in an attack. Trudging onward, feeling exhaustion closing in, Gure tried to keep pushing herself forward. Despite having never been there, she was certain that the Viridian Labyrinth lay beyond this realm. She could not explain why she felt herself pulled there, she just knew that it was her destination. Her paws felt like lead, and at long last, she collapsed to the forest floor. She couldn't see past the dark forest, its glowing mushrooms flickering and fading. She saw two pinpoints of orange light in the distance before slipping into unconsciousness.
Gure slowly awoke to the scent of a campfire. Soft green moss seemed to cushion her from what would have otherwise been an uncomfortable rest on the hardened soil floor. She noticed a Strangler wrapped around one of the vines adorning the cave's ceiling, itself looking very much like the vine it rested on. Its orange eyes were focused on her, and it occasionally flicked its tongue, seemingly curious about the mound of fluff taking up much of the cave. A shelf on the wall seemed to hold a variety of jars, many containing salves, seeds, ointments, powders, etc. A basket of fruit sat next to her head, and as she sat up, she realized that, aside from the Strangler, she was alone in the cave. She plucked a pawful of raspberries from the basket, taking great care not to accidentally crush the fragile berries and stain her fur. She monched quietly while observing the cozy abode. The campfire in the corner was thankfully small, producing just enough heat to warm her face. Shifting her sight to the entrance of the cave, light poured in from outside.
Carefully, Gure stood and exited the cave. A small garden flourished nearby, and it was currently being tended to by a Bogsneak twice her size. Her eyes widened in shock. Bogsneaks were a very new species, having arisen as the result of an alchemical accident. She never expected to actually lay eyes on one. The Bogsneak was brown and green, his colors almost fading into the background of the forest, really making him look like a forest spirit himself. He was adorned in leaves and...green feathers from some unfortunate bird? The branch staff at his side suggested that he was some kind of druid, perhaps? The Bogsneak felt her gaze and turned to look at her. "Good morning! You look as if you are well-rested. I'm Kaliya, a specialist in botany and much of the forest environment surrounding these parts."
Adult dragons turned up like this from time to time, seemingly suffering some form of amnesia, unaware of their immediate whereabouts or previous history. His dark and mighty frame trembled as he rose from the stiff grass. Cool, crystalline eyes settled on her, and she was filled with a sense of fear, as well as curiosity. His voice, a deep rumble, stated that his title was ShadowStrike, and that his goal was to build a new clan in the name of the Icewarden. Gure blinked up at him. "Well then, I suppose you'll need a guide to help you identify local flora and fauna?" The great beast gazed down at her, and nodded his head but once.
For the next year, Gure educated ShadowStrike on all of the plants, creatures, and landmarks of the Southern Icefield. Despite his quiet demeanor, she learned that he was very intelligent, remembering what he had learned whenever she gave him pop quizzes. Their burgeoning clan was named IceFall. They moved about a bit and, as their clan grew larger, eventually carved out a massive lair for themselves in the Fortress of Ends. This area was inhospitable to all but the most steadfast of clans. After carving out a chamber, she sought the assistance of some of IceFall's varied inhabitants. From the Arcane dragons she received magical lanterns, capable of providing light strong enough to provide benefits equivalent to tiny suns. From the Fire dragons she took heat-producing rocks. The inner workings of these rocks were a mystery to all but the flameborn, but she had an idea of how to put them to good use. From the Water dragons, she commissioned large hanging contraptions capable of, once filled with water, spilling mist into the space below. The lair's Earth dragons provided her with both dark organic soil and finely crafted earthenware pots. Finally, the Nature dragons gifted her many of the seeds, plants, and saplings they had brought from their previous homes. After several days, Gure sat down upon her furry rump and gazed at the fruits of her labor. IceFall now had its very own greenhouse. The lair's herbivorous dragons would never have to worry about the cold climate killing off spring greens, summer fruits, or autumnal harvests.
Gure and ShadowStrike's relationship was mostly that of companionship. ShadowStrike rarely affirmed it, but he held Gure and her knowledge about the natural world in high regard. Despite this, the two dragons couldn't help but notice the underlying feelings they held for each other. After some time, they produced a small clutch of offspring, a set of three little female Tundras. Kanashi matured into adulthood and, like many newly matured dragons, set out on a journey of her own. She settled with an unknown clan, produced many offspring of her own, before eventually choosing to serve the Plaguebringer. Like her sister Kanashi, Hane also followed a similar path, leaving IceFall and joining another clan, having offspring, and eventually moving on to serve the Icewarden. The last of the trio, Hanran, found herself joining a large Wind clan. While having no offspring of her own, she had her own adventures, and at one point underwent a mysterious transformation into a Gaoler, gaining a shaggier and somewhat more feral appearance.
After their children had departed IceFall, Gure and ShadowStrike parted ways, romantically. Gure felt increasingly uneasy, and began taking long walks through the snow-covered spruce forest outside the lair. Unsatisfied. Stir-crazy. One morning, Gure finally broke. She had never intended to actually leave without a word. But once she was at the forest's edge, she knew she wouldn't be able to gather the courage to tell her old friend that she was leaving. So, she simply left. And yet, her departure did not go unnoticed. ShadowStrike watched as his first friend and lover in the world of Sornieth walked into the spruces, out of his sight. He rose from the frigid lake in which he had been resting, ice clinging to his beard. ShadowStrike was always very conservative with his emotions, and many of IceFall's inhabitants would describe their leader as aloof. And yet, as he returned to the lair's inner chambers, it was difficult to determine whether the water descending the scales of his face originated from the lake, or from his sealed eyelids.
Despite traveling alone, Gure had years of nomadic wisdom and survival skills. She traveled throughout the regions of the Southern Icefield, eventually becoming a groundskeeper for one of the vast scrub gardens that the Icewarden maintained to feed his lesser cohorts. She excelled at this, and over the course of several months, she taught several apprentices. However, even this began to feel stagnant after some time. After seeking the blessing of one of the Icewarden's disciples and appointing one of her former students as the new groundskeeper, she departed. This time, she chose not to remain in the Southern Icefield.
Gure crossed the Frigid Floes until she reached the very last floating chunk of ice. Taking a deep breath to strengthen her resolve, she stepped onto the plains surrounding the Crystalspine Reaches, the Arcane Flight's very tall, very pink mountain range. Growing alongside the Reaches was the Starwood Strand, a large magical forest known for its evening beauty. Gure shook the last of the ice from her fuzzy locks and began weaving through the trees. To her disgust, she eventually arrived at the Scarred Wasteland. For a Tundra, their sense of smell was much keener than their eyesight, and both friend and foe were easily identified by their scent. Gure's nose wrinkled at the overpowering stench of decay, the sulfurous fumes of rot, the acrid smell of bile. Determined not to travel further inland, she skirted the edge of the Plague Flight's domain until reaching the Tangled Wood. Even in broad daylight, this forest remained shrouded in darkness. Quietly, she traveled through dense trees, always keenly aware of dozens of pairs of eyes watching her. At this point in her travels, she was exhausted, but knew that to stop to rest, in a dangerous place such as this, could result in death. Many of the dragons that lived here, Mirrors in particular, were skilled in the ways of hunting in the dark. While most dragon species would only eat other dragons as a result of a last resort upon starvation, Mirror dragons were known for their savagery, as well as their constant quests to sate their hunger. Shadow Mirrors, as such, would be particularly dangerous. Gure only hoped that if they fell upon her, the predators would decide she was eighty percent fur and leave her be. A Tundra's teeth and breath attacks were their only weapons, their horns and fur their only defense. She didn't relish her chances of survival in an attack. Trudging onward, feeling exhaustion closing in, Gure tried to keep pushing herself forward. Despite having never been there, she was certain that the Viridian Labyrinth lay beyond this realm. She could not explain why she felt herself pulled there, she just knew that it was her destination. Her paws felt like lead, and at long last, she collapsed to the forest floor. She couldn't see past the dark forest, its glowing mushrooms flickering and fading. She saw two pinpoints of orange light in the distance before slipping into unconsciousness.
Gure slowly awoke to the scent of a campfire. Soft green moss seemed to cushion her from what would have otherwise been an uncomfortable rest on the hardened soil floor. She noticed a Strangler wrapped around one of the vines adorning the cave's ceiling, itself looking very much like the vine it rested on. Its orange eyes were focused on her, and it occasionally flicked its tongue, seemingly curious about the mound of fluff taking up much of the cave. A shelf on the wall seemed to hold a variety of jars, many containing salves, seeds, ointments, powders, etc. A basket of fruit sat next to her head, and as she sat up, she realized that, aside from the Strangler, she was alone in the cave. She plucked a pawful of raspberries from the basket, taking great care not to accidentally crush the fragile berries and stain her fur. She monched quietly while observing the cozy abode. The campfire in the corner was thankfully small, producing just enough heat to warm her face. Shifting her sight to the entrance of the cave, light poured in from outside.
Carefully, Gure stood and exited the cave. A small garden flourished nearby, and it was currently being tended to by a Bogsneak twice her size. Her eyes widened in shock. Bogsneaks were a very new species, having arisen as the result of an alchemical accident. She never expected to actually lay eyes on one. The Bogsneak was brown and green, his colors almost fading into the background of the forest, really making him look like a forest spirit himself. He was adorned in leaves and...green feathers from some unfortunate bird? The branch staff at his side suggested that he was some kind of druid, perhaps? The Bogsneak felt her gaze and turned to look at her. "Good morning! You look as if you are well-rested. I'm Kaliya, a specialist in botany and much of the forest environment surrounding these parts."
Gure spared a glance around her. "These parts?" "Oh, forgive me." He chuckled. "I tend to forget that life exists outside of these woods. This is my humble abode, nestled in the Shrieking Wilds." Like the Strangler, Kaliya's tongue flicked, testing the air. Gure was entranced. The earthy Bogsneak noticed this. "I suppose you don't see my kind too often, eh? I'm a second generation Bogsneak, myself. Migrated from my parents' lair here in the Wilds, but didn't go very far. I've spent most of my life in these woods." Gure explained where she had come from, and Kaliya was overjoyed to talk with someone who had a knack for plantcare.
Gure and Kaliya became fast friends, and their little corner of the Wilds soon flourished and blossomed with a huge variety of flora. She befriended a Harvest Floracat one autumn, the creature attracted to her by her mass of warm fur, which apparently made a very comfortable place to nap in the afternoon sun. A tiny Marsh Frog frequented the pond they used to water their plants, and he too became attached to Gure. They lived comfortably like this for several years. Gradually, however, Gure's thoughts began to turn to the Southern Icefield once more. The Viridian Labyrinth was an incredible place to live, but she found that she was increasingly missing the crunch of fresh snow under her paws, the glare of the morning sun on glaciers, the bland yet crunchy scrub grasses that covered the tundra. Kaliya noticed her thoughtful gaze as she stared into the forest. He spoke then. "You know, Gure....if you wanted to head south...I...I would go with you. Even a fool can see you're longing for something there. We don't have to continue to stay in the Wilds if you would prefer to move on. I've never left the Viridian Labyrinth, and I've always wondered about the world outside." Kaliya was twiddling his claws nervously, but ceased when he noticed the wide smile on Gure's face. A smile he had come to love.
Gure and Kaliya became fast friends, and their little corner of the Wilds soon flourished and blossomed with a huge variety of flora. She befriended a Harvest Floracat one autumn, the creature attracted to her by her mass of warm fur, which apparently made a very comfortable place to nap in the afternoon sun. A tiny Marsh Frog frequented the pond they used to water their plants, and he too became attached to Gure. They lived comfortably like this for several years. Gradually, however, Gure's thoughts began to turn to the Southern Icefield once more. The Viridian Labyrinth was an incredible place to live, but she found that she was increasingly missing the crunch of fresh snow under her paws, the glare of the morning sun on glaciers, the bland yet crunchy scrub grasses that covered the tundra. Kaliya noticed her thoughtful gaze as she stared into the forest. He spoke then. "You know, Gure....if you wanted to head south...I...I would go with you. Even a fool can see you're longing for something there. We don't have to continue to stay in the Wilds if you would prefer to move on. I've never left the Viridian Labyrinth, and I've always wondered about the world outside." Kaliya was twiddling his claws nervously, but ceased when he noticed the wide smile on Gure's face. A smile he had come to love.
In a week's time, they had packed their belongings, their companions, and were on their way. The trip back was much more enjoyable with company, and Gure was kept amused by Kaliya's insistence on documenting the flora and fauna they passed on their trip, as well as gathering samples and seeds of encountered plants. When they reached the Frigid Floes, Kaliya was uncertain. He had never felt such cold temperatures before, and the ice on his feet..he regretted not having brought proper footwear. It wasn't until they had reached the spruce forest outside of IceFall that Gure began to feel true anxiety. What if the lair was abandoned? What if ShadowStrike outright attacked her for defaulting from the clan, for abandoning him? What if he was gone...or worse, dead? Her pulse quickened, and she began to panic. Kaliya recognized his companion's distress. "Gure, whatever goes down, I'll be there with you." Gure shuffled nervously. "I know, I just.... If he's still around, it's very hard to tell what exactly ShadowStrike will do. He's always been distant, but now... I never even told him good-bye, you know. Didn't leave a note. Didn't tell any of the other lair inhabitants, nor those I considered my friends and...especially not him." Kaliya quietly stood in the snow. Gure had always been very reluctant to discuss anything about her past when it came to IceFall. Kaliya sensed her unease regarding the subject, and never pressed her, but he had always wondered. The marsh frog nestled in Gure's fur peeped. "Agreed." Said Kaliya. "Even if we decide to turn around, we need to find shelter for the night. It's getting too cold, I don't think most of us will fair well if we stay outside." Kaliya's Strangler was wrapped tightly around his tail, partially covered by leaves. Gure sighed. "Come, let's get this over with. If they turn us away, we'll figure out something."
Various dragons and hatchlings were active around the lake today, but none seemed to notice or spare a glance at the newcomers. A large Guardian sat poised next to the cave's entrance, a midnight cloak wrapped around her. Her eyes were covered, but she immediately spoke to the pair. "From whence do you hail, strangers?" Kaliya spoke up. "We have traveled from the Viridian Labyrinth, seeking shelter and potentially a new home." The evening-colored dragon quietly huffed. "We..may have some space available." It was then that Gure asked, "Is ShadowStrike here?" The guard nodded. "It is he that you'll need to speak with to request an abode. You'll find him several chambers in, in IceFall's gardens." Kaliya's eyes widened in surprise. "This place can sustain a garden?!" The Guardian nodded again. "One of our clan's founders apparently constructed and tended it. Since their departure, our leader and some of the other dragons care for it as part of their daily duties to ensure the plants can continue to feed our many hungry mouths." Without another word, the guard gestured with her tail, inviting them to enter the cave.
Kaliya followed Gure, marveling at the cave and all of its structures, its enhancements. Some of the dragons walking past looked at them, but continued on their ways. Gure continued toward the gardens, she knew the way by heart. Tundras can be forgetful at times, but this was solidified in her memories. Kaliya exclaimed softly under his breath as they turned right into a chamber with extremely high ceilings. Vines covered much of the walls, stakes with fruit-bearing plants bound to them ordered neatly in six by six meter squares. The pond was still in the corner, though it was now much larger, filled with duckweed, moneywort, reeds, and lily pads. Gure's Marsh Frog peeped excitedly, hopped down off her shoulder, and practically threw itself into the pond. Kaliya chuckled with mirth, but was struck silent by what he saw next. In the distance, at the rear wall of the chamber, a massive obsidian Guardian stood.
Various dragons and hatchlings were active around the lake today, but none seemed to notice or spare a glance at the newcomers. A large Guardian sat poised next to the cave's entrance, a midnight cloak wrapped around her. Her eyes were covered, but she immediately spoke to the pair. "From whence do you hail, strangers?" Kaliya spoke up. "We have traveled from the Viridian Labyrinth, seeking shelter and potentially a new home." The evening-colored dragon quietly huffed. "We..may have some space available." It was then that Gure asked, "Is ShadowStrike here?" The guard nodded. "It is he that you'll need to speak with to request an abode. You'll find him several chambers in, in IceFall's gardens." Kaliya's eyes widened in surprise. "This place can sustain a garden?!" The Guardian nodded again. "One of our clan's founders apparently constructed and tended it. Since their departure, our leader and some of the other dragons care for it as part of their daily duties to ensure the plants can continue to feed our many hungry mouths." Without another word, the guard gestured with her tail, inviting them to enter the cave.
Kaliya followed Gure, marveling at the cave and all of its structures, its enhancements. Some of the dragons walking past looked at them, but continued on their ways. Gure continued toward the gardens, she knew the way by heart. Tundras can be forgetful at times, but this was solidified in her memories. Kaliya exclaimed softly under his breath as they turned right into a chamber with extremely high ceilings. Vines covered much of the walls, stakes with fruit-bearing plants bound to them ordered neatly in six by six meter squares. The pond was still in the corner, though it was now much larger, filled with duckweed, moneywort, reeds, and lily pads. Gure's Marsh Frog peeped excitedly, hopped down off her shoulder, and practically threw itself into the pond. Kaliya chuckled with mirth, but was struck silent by what he saw next. In the distance, at the rear wall of the chamber, a massive obsidian Guardian stood.
Bold, jagged stripes trailed down his body, darker even than his black scales. His wings and belly were a stunning blue, and his long beard faded from black to the same blue color. Gure noticed that ShadowStrike had definitely aged a bit while she was gone. His wings no longer had the same luster, his scales appeared battered, and dark scars appeared on various areas of his body, one laying across his left eye. Despite his war-torn appearance, he still walked with as much nobility as he had always had, and didn't appear to be at all hindered. His eyes though, she noted, had taken on a blue tint, somewhat uncommon among Iceborne dragons. The ornate armor he once donned had now been replaced by a blue filigreed set, somehow looking much more fitting on him. His claws glowed an intense blue color, and Gure wondered if it was paint or a permanent feature of his present morphology. She was in awe at how gently he was carrying a metal watering can in his mouth, watching him bend his head to water a section of sugarmelons while also dousing the hungry hatchlings swiping melons underneath, causing them to scatter, shrieking, while laden with as many melons as they could carry. A deep rumble followed them, and Gure realized that ShadowStrike was laughing.
It took some time for ShadowStrike to realize he was being observed, but he eventually turned his head toward Gure and Kaliya. "Approach." They stepped before him and, once more, Kaliya was dumbstruck at just how big the Guardian was. Intense, pale blue eyes had focused on them. Kaliya felt increasingly like an ant with each passing second. Those eyes fixated on Gure, and gradually, she saw the recognition stir within them. She did, after all, look different than when he had last set eyes upon her. Her grey coat had become mottled, with blotches of darker grey coloring spanning in every direction. Her wings still held the same shimmer, but now her belly fur had taken on similar coloration. With her dwindling eyesight, she had taken to wearing spectacles, and those truly do wonders for framing one's face. Kaliya noticed the apprehension on Gure's face. He gathered his courage and spoke in her stead. "ShadowStrike, Lord of IceFall, vassal of the Icewarden, we have traveled here from the Viridian Labyrinth, seeking shelter and perhaps new dwellings. We have come to inquire whether IceFall is welcoming immigrants or not?" ShadowStrike's eyes shifted to Kaliya, and the Bogsneak felt ten times more uncomfortable. "There is a small chamber off the left side of this one. It is available should it prove acceptable to you." Gure piped up. "You never filled it?" ShadowStrike looked at her then, and she could see the weariness in his gaze. "No." And then the obsidian dragon turned and went straight out the chamber's mouth. Kaliya breathed a sigh of relief. "No wonder that guy terrifies you, I've never met someone so quietly intense." Gure shuffled in place, kicking up years' worth of dust. "Well, I guess it's time to unpack." Kaliya laughed as he looked at the new den he and his mate were going to spend all day arranging. From the door of the garden, ShadowStrike peeked his head in before passing down the hall. "Welcome home, Gure." He rumbled.
It took some time for ShadowStrike to realize he was being observed, but he eventually turned his head toward Gure and Kaliya. "Approach." They stepped before him and, once more, Kaliya was dumbstruck at just how big the Guardian was. Intense, pale blue eyes had focused on them. Kaliya felt increasingly like an ant with each passing second. Those eyes fixated on Gure, and gradually, she saw the recognition stir within them. She did, after all, look different than when he had last set eyes upon her. Her grey coat had become mottled, with blotches of darker grey coloring spanning in every direction. Her wings still held the same shimmer, but now her belly fur had taken on similar coloration. With her dwindling eyesight, she had taken to wearing spectacles, and those truly do wonders for framing one's face. Kaliya noticed the apprehension on Gure's face. He gathered his courage and spoke in her stead. "ShadowStrike, Lord of IceFall, vassal of the Icewarden, we have traveled here from the Viridian Labyrinth, seeking shelter and perhaps new dwellings. We have come to inquire whether IceFall is welcoming immigrants or not?" ShadowStrike's eyes shifted to Kaliya, and the Bogsneak felt ten times more uncomfortable. "There is a small chamber off the left side of this one. It is available should it prove acceptable to you." Gure piped up. "You never filled it?" ShadowStrike looked at her then, and she could see the weariness in his gaze. "No." And then the obsidian dragon turned and went straight out the chamber's mouth. Kaliya breathed a sigh of relief. "No wonder that guy terrifies you, I've never met someone so quietly intense." Gure shuffled in place, kicking up years' worth of dust. "Well, I guess it's time to unpack." Kaliya laughed as he looked at the new den he and his mate were going to spend all day arranging. From the door of the garden, ShadowStrike peeked his head in before passing down the hall. "Welcome home, Gure." He rumbled.
Dido - Don't Leave Home - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tLpsDamWdIM
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