Narinder
(#91975441)
The One Who Waits
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50
out of
50
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.61 m
Wingspan
7.65 m
Weight
694.26 kg
Genetics
Shale
Basic
Basic
Shale
Basic
Basic
Tomato
Basic
Basic
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Coatl
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
7
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
5
MND
6
Biography
"Damned lamb!"
***
The temple air was heavy with the smell of the camellia incense the Lamb preferred to use, and it had been enough to flatten Narinder's ears to his skull since the moment he'd slipped through the doors that he had easily lockpicked open with a claw.
Camellias were too tied to Darkwood.
Too close to Leshy.
Too many unwanted memories.
His pawsteps were silent on the stone flooring as he prowled through the temple, front paws clasped behind his back, that was once built to praise his name -- no longer, now that he had been usurped by that traitorous, upstart Lamb. It was the middle of the night, silent, and none of the cult outside stirred. All the candles in the building had been snuffed, unlit since the last sermon four mornings ago, but he didn't need any light to see. He weaved aimlessly through the pews like a shadow, or something more akin to a phantom with the off-white robe he was clad in.
Narinder wasn't sure why he was even here. What was he looking to find? Some way to take back the crown that had been stolen from him months ago? Had it been months? Years? Centuries since? Time had little meaning to him anymore -- even before he had been chained away for a millennia, Gods did not pay mind to the passage of time.
The sound of a light, jingling bell paused him by the temple's altar, and his ear swiveled to follow the sound as it meandered around the area surrounding the building. Back late from their crusade. His ear flicked, hearing focusing more. The bell was off-kilter slightly, swinging to one side more than the other. A limp in their gait. Hurt, perhaps? His three ruby-red eyes narrowed.
As silently as he had already been, Narinder slunk over to the temple entrance; positioning himself to be against the wall, hidden from sight thanks to the inward-swinging doors, he waited. And he didn't have to wait long.
Cloven hooves clacked on the stone pathway leading up to the temple, and he had been correct: their steps stuttered every so often, weight put more heavily on one side. The tip of his tail twitched, ears tracking the movements, his pupils dilated. It had been a long time since he had hunted.
Moments later, the door near to him swung open, and the Lamb walked in. They looked as haggard as their hooftsteps had revealed; Anura had not been kind to them, if their bloodied wool and the gash on their thigh were any indication.
His limbs tensed, legs folding slightly as he coiled to pounce the unsuspecting Lamb. Ears pinned back, a toothy snarl slowly forming on his muzzle, he watched the Lamb tiredly take in the darkened, high-ceiling room. He didn't have any weapon beyond his own claws, but that was more than enough. He was not beyond getting his paws dirty, when needed. He could rip their throat out with his teeth, dig his claws into their chest, their stomach--
The Lamb's ear closest to him twitched, then perked, and their body shifted to turn towards the darkened corner where he was, bell jingling with the movement. Despite the downright demonic appearance of him currently -- a towering, glowering three-red-eyed shadow in the pitch-black with a white sharp-fanged sneer on his face -- a smile lit the Lamb's expression as their eyes landed on him.
He blamed the lighter robes he wore, as well as the Lamb's inherent prey peripheral vision.
Narinder's posture snapped straight the moment their eyes were on him, though his paws flexed, claws needling into the pads. The thought to rip them to shreds was still there, but all of the intent behind the instinct to hunt them was gone like candle smoke. For the most part.
"Nari, what--" they started, confusion coloring their tone despite the bright expression.
"Don't call me that," he hissed, fur bristling at the nickname they had given him against his will.
"What are you doing up this late? ...Why are you lurking around the temple in the dark?" The Lamb continued despite his protests, his hissed words going in one ear and out the other, their head tilting. "Wait, hold on--" The Lamb held out a hand, a flickering red flame sputtering to life and lit the area around them. Narinder flinched at the sudden light that assaulted his eyes, scowling with fangs until the Lamb used their other hand to shield the brunt of the flame's glow from Narinder's side of it. "Sorry! But... what are you doing here?"
The black-furred fallen god growled, the sound rumbling low in his chest, and he moved to stalk past the Lamb, tail lashing behind. Despite that, he was acutely aware of his distance from the Lamb's form, and did everything in his power not to touch them with any of his limbs. "I don't need to explain myself to you."
The Lamb turned to follow Narinder's movements towards the ajar door, though they didn't push the topic. "Alright... Well!" The flame in their hand dimmed before flickering out completely, leaving the both of them in the dark again. "If you don't have anything pressing, I think I'm going to go sleep. Goodnight, Nari!" they called gently after him, and Narinder make sure to slam the temple door harder than necessary behind him, as if that would somehow silence the words from their mouth.
***
The temple air was heavy with the smell of the camellia incense the Lamb preferred to use, and it had been enough to flatten Narinder's ears to his skull since the moment he'd slipped through the doors that he had easily lockpicked open with a claw.
Camellias were too tied to Darkwood.
Too close to Leshy.
Too many unwanted memories.
His pawsteps were silent on the stone flooring as he prowled through the temple, front paws clasped behind his back, that was once built to praise his name -- no longer, now that he had been usurped by that traitorous, upstart Lamb. It was the middle of the night, silent, and none of the cult outside stirred. All the candles in the building had been snuffed, unlit since the last sermon four mornings ago, but he didn't need any light to see. He weaved aimlessly through the pews like a shadow, or something more akin to a phantom with the off-white robe he was clad in.
Narinder wasn't sure why he was even here. What was he looking to find? Some way to take back the crown that had been stolen from him months ago? Had it been months? Years? Centuries since? Time had little meaning to him anymore -- even before he had been chained away for a millennia, Gods did not pay mind to the passage of time.
The sound of a light, jingling bell paused him by the temple's altar, and his ear swiveled to follow the sound as it meandered around the area surrounding the building. Back late from their crusade. His ear flicked, hearing focusing more. The bell was off-kilter slightly, swinging to one side more than the other. A limp in their gait. Hurt, perhaps? His three ruby-red eyes narrowed.
As silently as he had already been, Narinder slunk over to the temple entrance; positioning himself to be against the wall, hidden from sight thanks to the inward-swinging doors, he waited. And he didn't have to wait long.
Cloven hooves clacked on the stone pathway leading up to the temple, and he had been correct: their steps stuttered every so often, weight put more heavily on one side. The tip of his tail twitched, ears tracking the movements, his pupils dilated. It had been a long time since he had hunted.
Moments later, the door near to him swung open, and the Lamb walked in. They looked as haggard as their hooftsteps had revealed; Anura had not been kind to them, if their bloodied wool and the gash on their thigh were any indication.
His limbs tensed, legs folding slightly as he coiled to pounce the unsuspecting Lamb. Ears pinned back, a toothy snarl slowly forming on his muzzle, he watched the Lamb tiredly take in the darkened, high-ceiling room. He didn't have any weapon beyond his own claws, but that was more than enough. He was not beyond getting his paws dirty, when needed. He could rip their throat out with his teeth, dig his claws into their chest, their stomach--
The Lamb's ear closest to him twitched, then perked, and their body shifted to turn towards the darkened corner where he was, bell jingling with the movement. Despite the downright demonic appearance of him currently -- a towering, glowering three-red-eyed shadow in the pitch-black with a white sharp-fanged sneer on his face -- a smile lit the Lamb's expression as their eyes landed on him.
He blamed the lighter robes he wore, as well as the Lamb's inherent prey peripheral vision.
Narinder's posture snapped straight the moment their eyes were on him, though his paws flexed, claws needling into the pads. The thought to rip them to shreds was still there, but all of the intent behind the instinct to hunt them was gone like candle smoke. For the most part.
"Nari, what--" they started, confusion coloring their tone despite the bright expression.
"Don't call me that," he hissed, fur bristling at the nickname they had given him against his will.
"What are you doing up this late? ...Why are you lurking around the temple in the dark?" The Lamb continued despite his protests, his hissed words going in one ear and out the other, their head tilting. "Wait, hold on--" The Lamb held out a hand, a flickering red flame sputtering to life and lit the area around them. Narinder flinched at the sudden light that assaulted his eyes, scowling with fangs until the Lamb used their other hand to shield the brunt of the flame's glow from Narinder's side of it. "Sorry! But... what are you doing here?"
The black-furred fallen god growled, the sound rumbling low in his chest, and he moved to stalk past the Lamb, tail lashing behind. Despite that, he was acutely aware of his distance from the Lamb's form, and did everything in his power not to touch them with any of his limbs. "I don't need to explain myself to you."
The Lamb turned to follow Narinder's movements towards the ajar door, though they didn't push the topic. "Alright... Well!" The flame in their hand dimmed before flickering out completely, leaving the both of them in the dark again. "If you don't have anything pressing, I think I'm going to go sleep. Goodnight, Nari!" they called gently after him, and Narinder make sure to slam the temple door harder than necessary behind him, as if that would somehow silence the words from their mouth.
Click or tap a food type to individually feed this dragon only. The other dragons in your lair will not have their energy replenished.
This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
Feed this dragon Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
Exalting Narinder to the service of the Lightweaver 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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