Nightmare

Nightmare wasn't very well named. She's bubbly and extroverted with a horrible sense of humor. She doesn't know when to stop telling bad jokes. Clumsy and Corny, Nightmare would sooner bake cookies then say boo.
Nightmare is also easily scared. When she was younger, she had Optophobia. Thats ... Drumroll ... the fear of opening your eyes. Nightmare lived nearly a month with her eyes closed. Eventually she opened her eyes with the help of a shadow hypnotist.
Nightmare also has submechanophobia. The fear of dragonmade objects underwater. And she once had alektorophobia, The fear of chickens. And... Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia. I am not kidding, thats a real thing. it's also called Sesquipedalophobia. And its the fear of long words.
Actually, Nightmare was well named.

Also, she accidentally used the clan's one valuable flare scroll...
misclick!


storytime!
Nightmare went walking down the pathway, and it was icy cold beneath her talons. She arrived at an igloo with a chimney gently expelling smoke. She knocked on the door, and a purple Coatl greeted her. She recognized Wildflower. "Come in, Come in," She said, her accent reminiscent of the melodic tongue of the Coatls. Nightmare sat down on a soft seat. As Wildflower prepared tea, Nightmare explained her "ailment." "So, I've been finding that some things have been scaring me recently." "Blackberry, mint, mixed Herbal... ?" Wildflower nodded for her to continue. "Lemon ginger. If you don't have that, blackberry, please." "So, I've been getting scared by..." She hesitated. Wildflower stared questioningly. "...Long words-?" Wildflower sighed. Nightmare looked at her expectantly. Wildflower grasped a small piece of paper and wrote something down, folded the paper, wrote on the outside, and said, "I think that I know just the right dragon. Go to the address written. Don't unfold it." "You know that just triples my curiosity, right?" Nightmare asked. "Just don't."
Nightmare looked doubtfully at the caved in ice house with the number 176. Dead plants were scattered throughout the lawn, and there was a bare penguin skeleton next to a grill. She skeptically surveyed the beware signs that had been shredded by... Something. She glanced at the letter. 167, it said. "Whew, it's not this one," she murmured.
Nightmare looked, satisfied, at a nice, cozy looking igloo. She tapped on the beautiful atlantic white spruce door. She really knew her trees, she did.