Babar

Primary Colour: Phthalo
Secondary Colour: anything between (and including) Phthalo and Turquoise, Ice
Tertiary Colour: Cyan

Primary Gene: Fade preferred, but can be: Bar, Clown, Falcon, Giraffe, Ground, Jaguar, Leopard, Metallic, Pharaoh, Python, Ripple, Savannah, Skink, Speckle,Tiger, Vipera, Wasp
Secondary Gene: Patchwork
Tertiary Gene: Runes

Lore: Silkwings are created, not born. When a Lightning dragon loses their wings, due to an accident, or a fight, or just fate, they are called to Stone Eye Creations, a mysterious workshop buried under the sands of the Charged Barrens. There, they trade unknown goods in exchange for the return of their ability to fly.

Silkwings must have wings capable of being put back together with sheets of fabric (sorry Coatls), and although they may not enter into the process with a body as blue as the depths of the ocean, they always return that way. The runes that creep across their skin are assumed by many to be the signature of the workshop, a reminder of who saved their life. No Silkwing has ever revealed what happened, where they received the modifications, nor even why, despite being unable to feel through the fabric additions, they still bleed just fine.

After their transition, Silkwings find themselves drawn to dark, expansive caverns, and will fill them with mounds of machinery, the older the better. They gain an obsession with building, with creating, but many of them find that they are unable to form the ‘perfect’ creation. They can never tell anyone what’s missing, for they don’t know, but if asked, they will mutter about the fact that it isn’t ‘real’. They are often seen sneaking into the Golem Workshop to investigate the mannerisms of the creatures found there, and they hoard any knowledge about the golems' creation with uncharacteristic ferocity.

However, there are some that have succeeded in their efforts. At first, they start small, gifting some strange sentience to little robot birds and rodents, before slowly climbing toward larger and larger creatures. Their workshops become filled with machines, each one a mechanical creature given ‘life’. As their ambitions grow, so too does their lair, until it is filled to the brim with the whirr and click of their automatons, until, finally, the Silkwing is overcome with the desire to dig, to carve into the walls of their home until finally, they reveal their prize. A massive, unblinking eye.