Amarth

Fiendish and unkempt, with rich purple eyes and a jaw full of jagged gnarled teeth. A crown of sharp horns sat upon a fur covered head with two red antenna like jewels to a crown. A body as black as obsidian, devoid of any colors except the glossy sheen among the fur and thick scales with vibrant tattoo like patterns casting hues of flame red among his wings and tail. He was beautiful and yet so devilish with a jaw licked by flame. His eyes may have been a vibrant hue of amethyst purple but they remained meek and wide among his face, sheepish and unsure.

Descriptions always led onto the assumptions of a beautiful and frightening beast but Amarth hardly lived up the name of a scoundrel. He liked quiet and quaint little dens among the rocks and he liked shadows since he hid among them so well. No one could appreciate the beauty of dawn as much as him, he enjoyed basking in its vibrant display every morning just at sunup. Amarth was not considered a large dragon, perhaps if he kept his maw shut ( which he most certainly did due to his nervous qualities ) then others would think of him as a brooding male with a careful piercing gaze and a mind full of tarnish. Amarth was truly anything but, he was unsure of himself, careful and small. His wings were always clamped to his sides and his feet and tail tucked up under him like an uncertain house cat. He didn’t hunt deer or any large prey but chose the smaller easier catches like rabbits and squirrels. Bugs were also a common meal, mostly the easy ones.

Amarth didn’t partake in any games of violence or quick wit. He generally found himself enjoying simple things in life and he kept his friend group small, spending most of his time traveling from one den to another in order to partake in casual chats. The breeze always carried his wings well so much so that even storms didn’t frighten the small dragon, he simply cut through them and glided on with a strong tail to propel his movements further through the rain or thunder. Amarth was a shy dragon, he avoided causing or getting himself into drama or difficulties with other dragons but he certainly enjoyed listening to the struggles of others. Perhaps he listened because it brought a sort of companionship in the process, he was good at listening, it brought ease to the speaker and he enjoyed those with an animated way of chattering where they moved their hands and made all sorts of expressions. Amarth had few enemies but when he did come across them he always turned tail to the sky or ran back to his little alcove among the rocks and rubble that he called home.

His den was inconspicuous from an outward appearance but after a good journey into the crooks and cracks of the cave walls and caverns he would find himself in the well lit and well loved living area. A nest of the softest sticks, leaves, furs, and cloth would be intricately woven among the far center floor and jars hung suspended from the rock ceiling full of luminous materials ranging from lighting bugs to glowing mosses and even some strange luminous shallow sea creatures. Beetle and butterfly wings of all colors and sizes spanned a great many frames he hoarded along with pictures both painted, drawn, and sewn filled a few rooms of his which he deemed his personal library of wonders. The floor would be decorated with moss and rugs while the walls wore tapestries of grand sizes. Texture was important to Amarth but so was appearance, he diligently collected materials and took the painstaking time to create patterns and weaves out of them. Most of his tapestries were sold off to others for shinies ( which he kept locked away within a chest behind his nest ) but his favorite ones would remain stored within his den or pinned among one of the walls in order to show off…. Not that many visitors would see it. Only dragons of smaller stature could fit into the cavern of his home but he didn’t mind, it was a quiet and safe space.

- MikuKitty