A lover of music from her hatching, Eos has a gift for song that exceeds mere competency. When she sings, she can transform a landscape, change a heart, or shape a story to transfix a rapt audience. When she was a youngster, she was painfully shy and seldom spoke to anyone, even those she was close with in her clan. Keeping to herself, she'd go on long sojourns into the nearby forest, warbling to the birds and assorted other creatures.

As time wore on, she came out of her shell a bit, making tentative friends and broadening her circle. She never sang for anyone but herself, keeping her talent close and secret. It wasn't until her first daughter Zenobia was born that she shared her songs with another. Crooning to her little one, Eos did not notice the fascinated audience of clanmates gathered a respectful distance from the nest. When Zenobia had curled up between her forelegs and fallen into sleep, Eos looked up to find the awed faces of the other dragons pointed back at her. Only consideration for her sleeping daughter kept her from fleeing to the most outward boundaries of Sornieth.

Eos' mortification grew when one in the crowd piped up that they'd like another song. Other heads nodded in agreement as Eos looked helplessly from one to the next. "If I do this, if I sing you one more song, will you all leave me in peace?" she asked the crowd, who again nodded enthusiastically. Though she didn't move from her place on her nest and her voice was softer than it had been when she had sung to her little one, it captured the crowd all the same. Eos hardly knew what song she sang, some lullaby or other, but as she sang it she found herself getting lost in the song. The crowd felt miles away, but she knew they were lost with her, and she had to guide them home with her song.

The change in her after that was monumental. She began to sing in front of others often. It didn't happen all at once, of course, but the melodies she had kept inside as she worked or daydreamed were now free to roam and wander. Soon she began entertaining properly on winter nights when the lair was huddled in for warmth and storytelling. It branched into singing for visitors and emissaries who visited, which turned into traveling to other clans that were too far to come and hear her. After years of this, songs sung, nestlings hatched and friendships forged, she found that things were changing. The old songs weren't as in favor, and while she could still wow a gathering if she sang for them, the demand was dwindling. Slowly but surely, Eos was reclaimed by the quiet life. She set up shop in a small village, growing herbs and selling them, befriending most everyone in the village as was her custom.

When the motley circus rolled through the village, she paid very little attention. She had an herbarium full of plants to tend to, after all. She was so enmeshed in her work that she didn't even notice when a harried looking snapper tromped into her shop. He was in search of some fresh sprouts for one of his performers who'd fallen a bit under the weather, and the locals had all sworn by one certain shop and its plants. When he heard Eos singing to her herbs as she watered them, Gentian knew immediately that she would be leaving with them when the wagons rolled on from the village.

It didn't take a tremendous amount of convincing to get Eos on board. The most difficult snag was finding someone to take over her herbarium. Once it was safely in the hands of an ecstatic apprentice, Eos was a member of the Blacktoe Circus. She and Gentian, as the most seasoned members of the troupe, often spent the long hours on the road between locations together reminiscing about days gone by, about their children, and anything else. This comradery and friendship bloomed slowly and surely into a deep and abiding love for one another. Amid the colorful frolicking of her fellow performers, Eos is the group's clear, beautiful jewel of song.