ThistleTheLost
(#84439870)
Ex-Scribe of the Estray Tribe
Familiar
Flighted Molecricket
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Nature.
Male Fae
This dragon is on a Coliseum team.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
1.01 m
Wingspan
1.08 m
Weight
2.15 kg
Genetics
Thistle
Basic
Basic
Swamp
Basic
Basic
Chocolate
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 11 Fae
EXP: 5251 / 34264
STR
5
AGI
10
DEF
12
QCK
34
INT
49
VIT
5
MND
8
Biography
This dragon was killed in a nuzlocke, but seeing as they are my progenitor, it does not benefit me any to exalt them, and I will use them as a trainer for my level fodder.
Below is their bio from when they were alive...
Below is their bio from when they were alive...
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┌──────── •✧• ────────┐
Thistle the Lost
└──────── •✧• ────────┘
Scribe of the Estrāy Tribe
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Template by RunicRaptor, find it here.
Family Tree template by Poisonedpaper, find it here.
BBCode Companion by Dragonmim, find it here.
Mushroom dividers by Kaessis, find them (and more) here.
Thistle the Lost
└──────── •✧• ────────┘
Scribe of the Estrāy Tribe
|
Once a part of a bustling fae colony, Thistle found himself out of sorts among other dragons. He was never really one for words, always chittering and expressing his intent without the need for them. But once he was the only fae in his little tribe, he needed to find the words to lead them… Both him and his mate shared this... problem with words. Vecna was his strong but silent-type dragoness. She protected him and his interests wordlessly, and they enjoyed a silent life together. Outside of tribe duties, they needed no words. When his mate returned to their camp for the day - assuming she wasn’t guarding it already - he would sit upon her shoulder and chitter at her quietly. Wordless affirmations of love and respect. They’d curl up at night together, the odd couple of the tribe… As for the rest of the tribe, he took to writing and recordkeeping. He is both the tribe’s leader and their scribe, relying on others to dish and carry out his orders for him. Thistle spent most of his days in his makeshift office - a small, fae-sized tent where he kept his various knick knacks and his collection of quills. He may not have been good with speaking, but he was an alright writer. He took careful note of his tribe’s food stores and who he sends out. He writes his orders out on a piece of parchment and hands it off to Stolas, his assistant, to announce the day’s plans. When he wasn’t counting the stores, preparing plans for the day, or keeping records, he was usually tending to the small potted plants he carried with them on their journey - a small reminder of home he kept and tended to dearly. - Thistle grew up in a huge bustling fae colony near the Pox Consulate. They enjoyed a relatively peaceful life high above the occasional attacks that occurred below. Very rarely did any of the fighting extend to their home high above in the trees. He spent his days collecting insects and flowers with his colonymates, chittering happily when they found one they liked. But these things were not to last. Several weeks after a Plague Flight attack on the land below, a sickness swept up the trunk of the main tree which supported their massive colony. The once sturdy wooden pillar split suddenly with a loud CRACK. Many fae clambered to escape the destruction of their home, but many were caught off guard as the falling of the first colossal tree triggered a chain reaction in the other trees - also weakened by whatever blight the Plague Flight had released weeks earlier. Thistle had been caught under the central tree as it fell, desperately taking flight to escape his fate. He fluttered wildly out from under the trunk, but the wave of air caught his wings and blew him into the distance and into the trunk of another smaller tree. He blacked out. When he awoke, he had no idea where he was, or how far the wind had pushed his small body. He began to pick himself up and weakly find some insects to eat. It was at this point he encountered a much larger Mirror dragon, staring him down. He froze. He was weak and injured, no match even in a better state to this threat. He must have looked particularly pathetic, because this Mirror dragoness did not harm him, instead escorted him around - protecting him. They shared very few words, but the two soon became mates. Together they founded a rag tag little tribe of others in the area, and worked together to keep them all safe. - He perished in a supply run led by his dear mate, Vecna. Thylacine also perished alongside him, leaving both their mates alone and grieving…
Scars:
 Over his muzzle Over his left thigh Over his right wing |
₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ ₊ ˚ ✧ ﾟ |
┌───────────┐
Mates:  Vecna the Huntress └───────────┘ ┌───────────┐ Familiar: 
Jaywhisker the Satin Pocketmouse └───────────┘ ┌───────────┐ Inventory: 
└───────────┘ |
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Relationships:
-
Offspring:
-
Family Tree:
xxxx
Relationships:
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Offspring:
 Halter |
 Helm |
 Bramble |
 Droplet |
 Name Here |
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Family Tree:
xxxx
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Template by RunicRaptor, find it here.
Family Tree template by Poisonedpaper, find it here.
BBCode Companion by Dragonmim, find it here.
Mushroom dividers by Kaessis, find them (and more) here.
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
Insect stocks are currently depleted.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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Exalting ThistleTheLost to the service of the Gladekeeper will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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