Naga
(#9356113)
a new hope; a legacy renewed
Familiar
Melprin
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 47/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Spiral
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
3.77 m
Wingspan
2.02 m
Weight
51.39 kg
Genetics
Swamp
Cherub
Cherub
Jungle
Stripes
Stripes
Lemon
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Spiral
Max Level
STR
118
AGI
8
DEF
6
QCK
59
INT
5
VIT
40
MND
5
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
N A G A
patient ▵ intelligent ▵ witty
curious ▵ calculating ▵ devout
▼ peacekeeper, oathmaker, kingslayer|
Wealth, dominion, and ambition are the tools of the small-minded. There is no glory to be found in conquest or domination. An admirable creature is one who seeks mutualism and cohesion within their land and with its inhabitants. Choosing benevolence and mutual wellbeing within one’s community is true nobility, not hoarding wealth or commanding armies. When she walked among her neighbors, she knew she was not apart from them. A creature cannot be strong if their strength comes at the expense of their fellows. For what are we, but an extension of the trees that house us, the water that bathes us, and the sun that guides us? xx |
▼ to give, to share, to thank|
Naga had been taught from a young age that every dragon had a place in the ever-growing garden of the Glademother. Some dragons found they were skilled in tending Her fields, and feeding Her children. Others had quick eyes and steady hands, and discovered in their love of weaving and crafting. If every creature shared their bounties and gifts, there was no need for avarice or coveting. There was plenty for all. Despite this, Naga knew not everyone had learned the same. Some creatures were taught that greater joys could be found by stealing the labors of their fellows. And her place, when not mediating minor disputes or negotiating fair exchanges, was to seek out those who would disrupt the natural ways of the Mother. For she had been born with darker gifts. When a creature choose to use their advantages to profane the sacred symbiosis of the Glade, Naga would be called upon. If the greedy would not be reasoned with, then the sacrilege could not continue, and it was her burden to smite the threat. After all, a forest cannot survive without healthy roots.
Naga loves to hoard:
|
or really any green/neutral toned drapey clothes 
genes & battlestones to feed my lvl25 g1 addiction 
do i need to say it? i'm feeding my gambling and g1 addictions 
or literally any familiar or familiar(s) i don't have always interested in unbred 7dig g1s and/or pretty g1s born march 8th!! 
i hoard reptiles, amphibians, and rodent fams/apparel! art of my permas is the best gift of all <3 |
▼ the hungry years|
The first year of wandering was the hardest. She was the oldest, and the memory of gentler times were strongest for her. When Zenith broke her shoulder fighting off a herd of starving boar and everyone but the youngest seedlings had to eat lean for weeks, Naga would stare into the fire, remembering feasting with the clan. Some of the littler ones, who had still fit in her small claws the night they fled, didn’t remember being sung to sleep by the clan. Didn’t remember being cradled by the glademothers during their first storm.
I got my feet on the ground
Naga remembered. There were nights where her grandmother would stare back to the east, long after she’d settled the hatchlings and banked their little fires, and Naga would watch the streams of tears fall from Zenith’s ancient snout. She hadn’t ever seen an Elder cry, back in the Valley. There was little to mourn, then. Months into their travels, Naga had wondered when the Gathering would be, and had asked Zenith as they hunted one night. Her grandmother’s mouth tightened into a thin line. ‘The Gathering feasts would have begun as the red star moved into the North node. Three weeks ago.’
and I don't go to sleep to dream
Naga swiveled to face her, shocked. ‘We failed to greet the season of the Glade?’ Her chest tightened. From her first hatching days she had been told that of all their feast days and traditions, the Gathering was the most essential to their clan. Without gratitude for the Glade’s gifts, the Glademother might think their clan ungrateful, and curse them with a blight that could kill seedlings or ruin the year’s harvest. To have missed it entirely- Zenith’s laugh was bitter and sharp. ‘To greet the season demands a feast, ceremony, and crops to bless. We barely have enough to feed the hatchlings, our hymns are ash, and our fields are far behind us. Whatever bargains the Glademother may have made with clan in the past are dust now. She made that clear when She left her children to burn.’ With a quiet exhale, she continued her loping run towards a herd of deer, refocused on providing food for rhe clan. It was heresy. Blasphemy the likes of which Naga had never heard from a Mother’s mouth. Had they still been in the valley, such talk would have been punished, for to say such things- Naga rubbed her palms against her eyes, blinking away furious tears.
You got your head in the clouds
But they weren’t in the Valley. They weren’t in the Valley because all that was left of their crops, their traditions, their nests was the scorched earth. To have spoken against the Glade would have been blasphemy then, when Her protection cradled Nahum clan and blessed them with bountiful harvests. Maybe Zenith was right. Maybe the Glademother had already abandoned them, had cast them out. There had been a quiet part of Naga that had held out hope that maybe it had been a test. That if she tended the campfire each night, made sure each hatchling’s belly was full before they slept, and held on for a few more hungry nights, that maybe the Glademother would reveal that the last few months had been a terrible dream. That her mother would emerge from the forest one day and pull Naga back into her warm arms, and tell her that she didn’t have to go to bed hungry anymore, that she had proved herself, and that she could go home. That part of her was silent now. She helped Zenith dress the deer and gathered the other small game and greens they had collected on their way through the forest, ears ringing. When they returned to camp she moved mechanically through her nightly routine, her grandmother’s words echoing in her mind. It wasn’t until the sound of tiny snores reached her ears that she padded out to sit alongside Zenith once more. Her grandmother was repairing one of their waterskeins with sinew they had prepared from their last hunting trip, claws quick and unhesitating as they stitched. ‘Elder?’ ‘Yes, heirling?’ ‘Did you see my mom the night we… the night the fires came?’
and you’re not at all what you seem
Zenith sighed quietly, claws never ceasing their quiet work. ‘Yes, Naga. I was with Samtara that night. She was nestbound, and as it was to be her last clutch, I volunteered to be her tender.’ Naga nodded slowly, eyes not leaving her grandmother’s hands. ‘Did she- did she saying anything about me, before you left?’ One of the hatchlings behind them cried out softly, and one of the yearlings hushed them quietly, nudging them back to sleep under their wing. Zenith finished the last stitch and quietly repacked needle and sinew in her makeshift sewing kit before raising her gaze up to her eldest charge. ‘Samtara wanted to go to you, Naga. She didn’t forget that you were waiting outside the valley. When the fires drew closer, she thought of nothing but you. She made me promise I would find you, keep you safe, and teach you how to sing her name, once you were old enough to carry the melody. It was her love for you that saved me from the flames, that carried me to you.’ Naga surged to her feet and fell into her grandmother’s waiting arms, crying silently. ‘I wish she was here, grandma. I miss her so much. I miss the valley.’
But this mind, this body and this voice cannot be stopped
Zenith squeezed Naga tightly, for a moment before releasing her. She looked down at her grandchild, radiant against the dim glow of the fire, and cupped her heir’s cheeks in her callused palms. ‘Oh little one, I know. I miss our home and your mother too. But her love brought us together, and kept us safe for these long months. I’m sorry we didn’t mark the Gathering together. There is an anger in me, a bitterness, that I will someday have to face head on. But my quarrel with our Glademother is between us, and I should not have let it cause you pain.’ Zenith smiled, gently rapping her knuckle on Naga’s snout. ‘I may be mourning my clan and children, but it is hard to remain bitter when I see the bright future of our clan in front of me each day. Come, let’s join your cousins in rest, and tomorrow we will plan for a new way to celebrate the Gathering and mark the season’s change. For all that we have lost, we have still endured. I would be a poor Mother indeed if I allowed my anger to steal my children’s joy.’ Naga settled in to rest surrounded by her kin, and, under the watchful eye of her Elder, drifted into a gentle, dreamless sleep.
so don’t forget what I told you, don't come around,
I got my own hell to raise ─ theme: sleep to dream by fiona apple ─ |
| xxxxxxxxxx |
Naga, the heir of the Valley Osyen, the besotted protector Rene, the loyal healer Quilo, the young scholar Nereus, the golden prince Riven, the hesitant accomplice |
Zenith, the grieving avenger Samtara, the weeping river Eve, the vicious handmaiden Galao, the charming veteran Circe, the travelling seer Leah, the bright-eyed pathfinder | xxxxxxxxxxx |
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Exalting Naga to the service of the Earthshaker 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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