Its okay! i did enjoy it, thank you for the story :D. and your welcome!
(sorry for the late payment btw ;w;)
(sorry for the late payment btw ;w;)
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TOPIC | Moonmere Lore (CLOSED for Revamp!!)
Its okay! i did enjoy it, thank you for the story :D. and your welcome!
(sorry for the late payment btw ;w;)
(sorry for the late payment btw ;w;)
Story for @Tynethyne !! Sorry about the delay- hope you enjoy!
Living one's life in the fortress of ends was not really a great idea. The cold bites, especially at those unfortunate enough to be born in such a place without a thick coat, like those belonging to the dragons who could be traced there for their beginnings. Candor was no such lucky dragon. The scales that covered his guardian body did very little to keep him warm, and no matter low long he spent in the snow, it always managed to surprise him how very cold it was.
Noon. The way sun gleams off of snow is beautiful, objectively. There's a certain charm to the glitter, the fractals that reflect light. However, it's not a boon in combat, which is what Candor was more concerned with, rather than something 'pretty'. It makes it harder to move, a fact he was painfully aware of as he walked in his usual path through the domain. How was he to bring it up? That he was leaving his service to his liege, The grand Ice Warden. There was so much to do, Still. So much to see, to learn. His life had been spent in this place. His many years had been used toiling, training in combat, always striving for improvement, for something better, for achieving more.
His walk continued as clouds rolled in from the horizon. Candor cast his gaze up to them, and let out a soft gruff of displeasure. The world itself was rubbing his thoughts in on him. The betrayal. Snow started floating down from the charcoal sky, and Candor was not surprised in the slightest. It served him right that this would be the weather of the day. It served him right that as his thoughts of leaving intensified, the very heavens themself would shout its scorn for him. Of course. But he'd already spent far too much time agonizing over his choice. He was leaving, and that was the end of it.
His stubborn determination didn't make the truth of the situation any easier, of course. It didn't even begin to help him out, didn't make him feel more sound. The fact of the matter was just that. He was leaving, and that was the end of it, it was something that he's known was needed for quite a time now. But what was the point? Abandoning his post, a post which he served honestly and without falter for great Icewarden knows how long. A post he'd been proud to hold. What was the point of leaving?
Growth, he supposed. He'd reached the limit of what he could reach here. Reached the top. And he didn't know what he was to do beyond that. A top position might seem good, but it's really nothing but limitation. Once you're the top, the only way to grow more is by stepping on toes, is by growing *too much*. Candor was big. He'd grown since he hatched- shocking, I know- and now he'd hit that tipping point of satisfaction versus making his way to somewhere he could grow further. Or perhaps, 'again' is a better way to put that. It's growth either way. Learning more. Being better. Fantasy tells him that he needs to go. Reality tells him that it's perhaps not the best choice.
Candor wasn't unhappy with who he was. Don't think that for a moment, he's perfectly satisfied with who he is. There's simply.. an itch. A knowing, knowing that he could be better if he wanted to. Knowing that he could be better if he did something so simple as to try. Try, and of course abandon his life. There was no way to have it both, as he saw it- A perfectly black and white situation. Usually, the things he deals with are on a more greyscale. Battle is like that. There are thousands of ways for it to go, each one different than the last. battling is never the same twice in a row. Results vary with the smallest change of either party's actions. But this was different.
He could stay or he could leave. He could leave, go in a search for whatever it is that he's really looking for. Find something to look for, perhaps. But there's also the option to stay. To abandon that nagging voice in the back of his mind screaming at him to leave, to go, to get it done. He's
A grunt leaves Candor's throat as his walk takes a sudden stop. He's faced with a rather large snowbank, it getting in his way. The path had been clear- He'd been so sure it'd been clear that it was this path he decided to walk. He huffs and spreads his wings, turning around to take a couple of steps backwards, before bringing them down hard and lifting from the ground. With all of his gear, that task was harder than it may have looked, but it worked, didn't it? He lands once again on the other side, and turns to look at the snowbank. Pausing for a moment.
The moment is ended when Candor gruffs, and turns to keep walking. The snowbank left behind him. He's decided, certainly. He'd be leaving. But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy his last walk through the fortress of ends. So he continues. One foot in front of another, as snow collected on the metal of his armour and sword. Heading ever closer to the border. Heading for growth. Heading for..
Whatever it is that would come next.
Hey! Sorry again this took so long, Writer's block + mental health, the deadly combination. I hope you enjoy, Thank you for coming to Moonmere!
Living one's life in the fortress of ends was not really a great idea. The cold bites, especially at those unfortunate enough to be born in such a place without a thick coat, like those belonging to the dragons who could be traced there for their beginnings. Candor was no such lucky dragon. The scales that covered his guardian body did very little to keep him warm, and no matter low long he spent in the snow, it always managed to surprise him how very cold it was.
Noon. The way sun gleams off of snow is beautiful, objectively. There's a certain charm to the glitter, the fractals that reflect light. However, it's not a boon in combat, which is what Candor was more concerned with, rather than something 'pretty'. It makes it harder to move, a fact he was painfully aware of as he walked in his usual path through the domain. How was he to bring it up? That he was leaving his service to his liege, The grand Ice Warden. There was so much to do, Still. So much to see, to learn. His life had been spent in this place. His many years had been used toiling, training in combat, always striving for improvement, for something better, for achieving more.
His walk continued as clouds rolled in from the horizon. Candor cast his gaze up to them, and let out a soft gruff of displeasure. The world itself was rubbing his thoughts in on him. The betrayal. Snow started floating down from the charcoal sky, and Candor was not surprised in the slightest. It served him right that this would be the weather of the day. It served him right that as his thoughts of leaving intensified, the very heavens themself would shout its scorn for him. Of course. But he'd already spent far too much time agonizing over his choice. He was leaving, and that was the end of it.
His stubborn determination didn't make the truth of the situation any easier, of course. It didn't even begin to help him out, didn't make him feel more sound. The fact of the matter was just that. He was leaving, and that was the end of it, it was something that he's known was needed for quite a time now. But what was the point? Abandoning his post, a post which he served honestly and without falter for great Icewarden knows how long. A post he'd been proud to hold. What was the point of leaving?
Growth, he supposed. He'd reached the limit of what he could reach here. Reached the top. And he didn't know what he was to do beyond that. A top position might seem good, but it's really nothing but limitation. Once you're the top, the only way to grow more is by stepping on toes, is by growing *too much*. Candor was big. He'd grown since he hatched- shocking, I know- and now he'd hit that tipping point of satisfaction versus making his way to somewhere he could grow further. Or perhaps, 'again' is a better way to put that. It's growth either way. Learning more. Being better. Fantasy tells him that he needs to go. Reality tells him that it's perhaps not the best choice.
Candor wasn't unhappy with who he was. Don't think that for a moment, he's perfectly satisfied with who he is. There's simply.. an itch. A knowing, knowing that he could be better if he wanted to. Knowing that he could be better if he did something so simple as to try. Try, and of course abandon his life. There was no way to have it both, as he saw it- A perfectly black and white situation. Usually, the things he deals with are on a more greyscale. Battle is like that. There are thousands of ways for it to go, each one different than the last. battling is never the same twice in a row. Results vary with the smallest change of either party's actions. But this was different.
He could stay or he could leave. He could leave, go in a search for whatever it is that he's really looking for. Find something to look for, perhaps. But there's also the option to stay. To abandon that nagging voice in the back of his mind screaming at him to leave, to go, to get it done. He's
A grunt leaves Candor's throat as his walk takes a sudden stop. He's faced with a rather large snowbank, it getting in his way. The path had been clear- He'd been so sure it'd been clear that it was this path he decided to walk. He huffs and spreads his wings, turning around to take a couple of steps backwards, before bringing them down hard and lifting from the ground. With all of his gear, that task was harder than it may have looked, but it worked, didn't it? He lands once again on the other side, and turns to look at the snowbank. Pausing for a moment.
The moment is ended when Candor gruffs, and turns to keep walking. The snowbank left behind him. He's decided, certainly. He'd be leaving. But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy his last walk through the fortress of ends. So he continues. One foot in front of another, as snow collected on the metal of his armour and sword. Heading ever closer to the border. Heading for growth. Heading for..
Whatever it is that would come next.
Hey! Sorry again this took so long, Writer's block + mental health, the deadly combination. I hope you enjoy, Thank you for coming to Moonmere!
Story for @Tynethyne !! Sorry about the delay- hope you enjoy!
Living one's life in the fortress of ends was not really a great idea. The cold bites, especially at those unfortunate enough to be born in such a place without a thick coat, like those belonging to the dragons who could be traced there for their beginnings. Candor was no such lucky dragon. The scales that covered his guardian body did very little to keep him warm, and no matter low long he spent in the snow, it always managed to surprise him how very cold it was.
Noon. The way sun gleams off of snow is beautiful, objectively. There's a certain charm to the glitter, the fractals that reflect light. However, it's not a boon in combat, which is what Candor was more concerned with, rather than something 'pretty'. It makes it harder to move, a fact he was painfully aware of as he walked in his usual path through the domain. How was he to bring it up? That he was leaving his service to his liege, The grand Ice Warden. There was so much to do, Still. So much to see, to learn. His life had been spent in this place. His many years had been used toiling, training in combat, always striving for improvement, for something better, for achieving more.
His walk continued as clouds rolled in from the horizon. Candor cast his gaze up to them, and let out a soft gruff of displeasure. The world itself was rubbing his thoughts in on him. The betrayal. Snow started floating down from the charcoal sky, and Candor was not surprised in the slightest. It served him right that this would be the weather of the day. It served him right that as his thoughts of leaving intensified, the very heavens themself would shout its scorn for him. Of course. But he'd already spent far too much time agonizing over his choice. He was leaving, and that was the end of it.
His stubborn determination didn't make the truth of the situation any easier, of course. It didn't even begin to help him out, didn't make him feel more sound. The fact of the matter was just that. He was leaving, and that was the end of it, it was something that he's known was needed for quite a time now. But what was the point? Abandoning his post, a post which he served honestly and without falter for great Icewarden knows how long. A post he'd been proud to hold. What was the point of leaving?
Growth, he supposed. He'd reached the limit of what he could reach here. Reached the top. And he didn't know what he was to do beyond that. A top position might seem good, but it's really nothing but limitation. Once you're the top, the only way to grow more is by stepping on toes, is by growing *too much*. Candor was big. He'd grown since he hatched- shocking, I know- and now he'd hit that tipping point of satisfaction versus making his way to somewhere he could grow further. Or perhaps, 'again' is a better way to put that. It's growth either way. Learning more. Being better. Fantasy tells him that he needs to go. Reality tells him that it's perhaps not the best choice.
Candor wasn't unhappy with who he was. Don't think that for a moment, he's perfectly satisfied with who he is. There's simply.. an itch. A knowing, knowing that he could be better if he wanted to. Knowing that he could be better if he did something so simple as to try. Try, and of course abandon his life. There was no way to have it both, as he saw it- A perfectly black and white situation. Usually, the things he deals with are on a more greyscale. Battle is like that. There are thousands of ways for it to go, each one different than the last. battling is never the same twice in a row. Results vary with the smallest change of either party's actions. But this was different.
He could stay or he could leave. He could leave, go in a search for whatever it is that he's really looking for. Find something to look for, perhaps. But there's also the option to stay. To abandon that nagging voice in the back of his mind screaming at him to leave, to go, to get it done. He's
A grunt leaves Candor's throat as his walk takes a sudden stop. He's faced with a rather large snowbank, it getting in his way. The path had been clear- He'd been so sure it'd been clear that it was this path he decided to walk. He huffs and spreads his wings, turning around to take a couple of steps backwards, before bringing them down hard and lifting from the ground. With all of his gear, that task was harder than it may have looked, but it worked, didn't it? He lands once again on the other side, and turns to look at the snowbank. Pausing for a moment.
The moment is ended when Candor gruffs, and turns to keep walking. The snowbank left behind him. He's decided, certainly. He'd be leaving. But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy his last walk through the fortress of ends. So he continues. One foot in front of another, as snow collected on the metal of his armour and sword. Heading ever closer to the border. Heading for growth. Heading for..
Whatever it is that would come next.
Hey! Sorry again this took so long, Writer's block + mental health, the deadly combination. I hope you enjoy, Thank you for coming to Moonmere!
Living one's life in the fortress of ends was not really a great idea. The cold bites, especially at those unfortunate enough to be born in such a place without a thick coat, like those belonging to the dragons who could be traced there for their beginnings. Candor was no such lucky dragon. The scales that covered his guardian body did very little to keep him warm, and no matter low long he spent in the snow, it always managed to surprise him how very cold it was.
Noon. The way sun gleams off of snow is beautiful, objectively. There's a certain charm to the glitter, the fractals that reflect light. However, it's not a boon in combat, which is what Candor was more concerned with, rather than something 'pretty'. It makes it harder to move, a fact he was painfully aware of as he walked in his usual path through the domain. How was he to bring it up? That he was leaving his service to his liege, The grand Ice Warden. There was so much to do, Still. So much to see, to learn. His life had been spent in this place. His many years had been used toiling, training in combat, always striving for improvement, for something better, for achieving more.
His walk continued as clouds rolled in from the horizon. Candor cast his gaze up to them, and let out a soft gruff of displeasure. The world itself was rubbing his thoughts in on him. The betrayal. Snow started floating down from the charcoal sky, and Candor was not surprised in the slightest. It served him right that this would be the weather of the day. It served him right that as his thoughts of leaving intensified, the very heavens themself would shout its scorn for him. Of course. But he'd already spent far too much time agonizing over his choice. He was leaving, and that was the end of it.
His stubborn determination didn't make the truth of the situation any easier, of course. It didn't even begin to help him out, didn't make him feel more sound. The fact of the matter was just that. He was leaving, and that was the end of it, it was something that he's known was needed for quite a time now. But what was the point? Abandoning his post, a post which he served honestly and without falter for great Icewarden knows how long. A post he'd been proud to hold. What was the point of leaving?
Growth, he supposed. He'd reached the limit of what he could reach here. Reached the top. And he didn't know what he was to do beyond that. A top position might seem good, but it's really nothing but limitation. Once you're the top, the only way to grow more is by stepping on toes, is by growing *too much*. Candor was big. He'd grown since he hatched- shocking, I know- and now he'd hit that tipping point of satisfaction versus making his way to somewhere he could grow further. Or perhaps, 'again' is a better way to put that. It's growth either way. Learning more. Being better. Fantasy tells him that he needs to go. Reality tells him that it's perhaps not the best choice.
Candor wasn't unhappy with who he was. Don't think that for a moment, he's perfectly satisfied with who he is. There's simply.. an itch. A knowing, knowing that he could be better if he wanted to. Knowing that he could be better if he did something so simple as to try. Try, and of course abandon his life. There was no way to have it both, as he saw it- A perfectly black and white situation. Usually, the things he deals with are on a more greyscale. Battle is like that. There are thousands of ways for it to go, each one different than the last. battling is never the same twice in a row. Results vary with the smallest change of either party's actions. But this was different.
He could stay or he could leave. He could leave, go in a search for whatever it is that he's really looking for. Find something to look for, perhaps. But there's also the option to stay. To abandon that nagging voice in the back of his mind screaming at him to leave, to go, to get it done. He's
A grunt leaves Candor's throat as his walk takes a sudden stop. He's faced with a rather large snowbank, it getting in his way. The path had been clear- He'd been so sure it'd been clear that it was this path he decided to walk. He huffs and spreads his wings, turning around to take a couple of steps backwards, before bringing them down hard and lifting from the ground. With all of his gear, that task was harder than it may have looked, but it worked, didn't it? He lands once again on the other side, and turns to look at the snowbank. Pausing for a moment.
The moment is ended when Candor gruffs, and turns to keep walking. The snowbank left behind him. He's decided, certainly. He'd be leaving. But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy his last walk through the fortress of ends. So he continues. One foot in front of another, as snow collected on the metal of his armour and sword. Heading ever closer to the border. Heading for growth. Heading for..
Whatever it is that would come next.
Hey! Sorry again this took so long, Writer's block + mental health, the deadly combination. I hope you enjoy, Thank you for coming to Moonmere!
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Them FR 0:00
Story for @AlienNation ! Sorry for delay!
Andromeda was falling. Falling from the heavens, and that she knew. Her body was lit aflame, the speed at which she was falling too quick to be without such an entrance. This place- She didn't know where it was, but she did know one thing, and that was simply that she needed to keep this egg safe. It was far more fragile than she- She could take the heat. The impact she knew was coming. But that fear lingered. What if the egg failed to take the landing. Her claws scrabbled along the surface of the egg and she felt herself screaming, with her body moving too quick, so that by the time she'd let the sound go, it was already far behind her, beyond her hearing. She would be fine- She had to be fine- she curled around the egg, what mattered more than her was-
...
The dragon stirred. A low groan left them, as pain ran ruthlessly through their body. They were on their side, uncomfortable, sprawled out in a spot on ground that was unfamiliar to them. They were in pain. Slowly- slowly, the eased themself unsteadily to their feet. And something tumbled out of their grasp.
Twisting to look at the thing- and gaining a sharp crick in their neck, causing them to wince down, dropping to a kneeling stance and pressing their head in against the dirt- the smoldering dirt, but the heat didn't bother them as perhaps it should. In fact, it felt nice against their head. They rested for a moment, feeling comforted, feeling slightly more at ease. Before their curiosity was remembered, and their head lifted to look at the object they seemed to have been holding.
It was perfectly round.. Floating, just so slightly, above the ground- Streaks of something orbited the object, and the dragon was entransed. She drew closer, nudging her nose to the object, only to feel its warmth. It startled her, but she quickly scolded herself for such behaviour. They were surrounded by warmth, it only makes sense for this whatever it is to be warm.
She inspected closer, squinting at the object. Something in her chest stirred. She didn't know what it was- but very quickly, she was realizing.. there was much that she didn't know. For example- Where was she? More pressing, Who was she? Why did she have this mysterious thing, why did she want to take it into her arms and hold it? More and more questions arose in her, none of which she could find answers for. one of her clawed feet finds it's way to her head, and she presses it hard to the center of the surface, trying to recall any of the information she so desired. Only to come up with nothing. Disorientation filled her, as she could come up with nothing but blank.
Her gaze falls back to the sphere, and she hesitates, before drawing it into her arms, rising, and stepping slowly out of the circle of dirt. Searching around it, for any sign of who she might be, but once again she was met with nothing. Their identity was lost to them.
But really, did that matter so much? If it were unimportant enough that she could have lost it, did it matter in the first place? She had no pretty words for what she felt- and she was hardly sure she felt anything at all, but for the faint and lingering confusion that sat so prominently in the forefront of her mind. There are very few pretty words for when one has lost all sense of who they were.
Three times, her feet guide her around the circle. The circle, with such a large dip in the middle- Her movements are hindered, of course, by the thing she clutches so tightly to her chest, feeling it the only way to interact with the object. But no explanation for anything is offered to her. It's hard to feel disappointment, though, when you don't know what you were looking for in the first place. The closest you can feel- and something that often gets confused with the real thing- is a strange sense of entitlement. That you should know, and yet you don't. That is what this particular Dragon was undergoing- Something that she was sure was disappointment.
Her gaze turns upwards. Curiosity still lingers with her, but it's fading. Slowly, to a sense of- well, why should she really care? She didn't need a name in this moment. She didn't need to know why she was here. What mattered was simply that she was, and that was something she would have to make do with. Answers are overrated. Simply.. allowing whatever this is to happen, seems the best path of action.
The stars stretch endless above her head. They wink and glimmer in the sky, like tiny holes poked in the dark fabric of the cosmos, to let the light from the rest of all shine through.. but her attention wasn't on that. It wasn't on anything, much. She didn't have a reason to go anywhere. Nor to do anything. So, instead- she returned to where she'd awoken. The hole, the dip. She curled herself around the whatever-it-was, and tucked her nose against it. She was sure someone would find them. Whoever that may be.
---
Alright! I'm so sorry this took me a month to get to??? I haven't been able to write anything half decent for a while, and I hope that you enjoy this even with the wait you had to endure!! I think the lore of your lair is super cool, and it was awesome to write for you, even if I did take so long.
Thank you for buying from Moonmere!! Have a fantastic day!
Andromeda was falling. Falling from the heavens, and that she knew. Her body was lit aflame, the speed at which she was falling too quick to be without such an entrance. This place- She didn't know where it was, but she did know one thing, and that was simply that she needed to keep this egg safe. It was far more fragile than she- She could take the heat. The impact she knew was coming. But that fear lingered. What if the egg failed to take the landing. Her claws scrabbled along the surface of the egg and she felt herself screaming, with her body moving too quick, so that by the time she'd let the sound go, it was already far behind her, beyond her hearing. She would be fine- She had to be fine- she curled around the egg, what mattered more than her was-
...
The dragon stirred. A low groan left them, as pain ran ruthlessly through their body. They were on their side, uncomfortable, sprawled out in a spot on ground that was unfamiliar to them. They were in pain. Slowly- slowly, the eased themself unsteadily to their feet. And something tumbled out of their grasp.
Twisting to look at the thing- and gaining a sharp crick in their neck, causing them to wince down, dropping to a kneeling stance and pressing their head in against the dirt- the smoldering dirt, but the heat didn't bother them as perhaps it should. In fact, it felt nice against their head. They rested for a moment, feeling comforted, feeling slightly more at ease. Before their curiosity was remembered, and their head lifted to look at the object they seemed to have been holding.
It was perfectly round.. Floating, just so slightly, above the ground- Streaks of something orbited the object, and the dragon was entransed. She drew closer, nudging her nose to the object, only to feel its warmth. It startled her, but she quickly scolded herself for such behaviour. They were surrounded by warmth, it only makes sense for this whatever it is to be warm.
She inspected closer, squinting at the object. Something in her chest stirred. She didn't know what it was- but very quickly, she was realizing.. there was much that she didn't know. For example- Where was she? More pressing, Who was she? Why did she have this mysterious thing, why did she want to take it into her arms and hold it? More and more questions arose in her, none of which she could find answers for. one of her clawed feet finds it's way to her head, and she presses it hard to the center of the surface, trying to recall any of the information she so desired. Only to come up with nothing. Disorientation filled her, as she could come up with nothing but blank.
Her gaze falls back to the sphere, and she hesitates, before drawing it into her arms, rising, and stepping slowly out of the circle of dirt. Searching around it, for any sign of who she might be, but once again she was met with nothing. Their identity was lost to them.
But really, did that matter so much? If it were unimportant enough that she could have lost it, did it matter in the first place? She had no pretty words for what she felt- and she was hardly sure she felt anything at all, but for the faint and lingering confusion that sat so prominently in the forefront of her mind. There are very few pretty words for when one has lost all sense of who they were.
Three times, her feet guide her around the circle. The circle, with such a large dip in the middle- Her movements are hindered, of course, by the thing she clutches so tightly to her chest, feeling it the only way to interact with the object. But no explanation for anything is offered to her. It's hard to feel disappointment, though, when you don't know what you were looking for in the first place. The closest you can feel- and something that often gets confused with the real thing- is a strange sense of entitlement. That you should know, and yet you don't. That is what this particular Dragon was undergoing- Something that she was sure was disappointment.
Her gaze turns upwards. Curiosity still lingers with her, but it's fading. Slowly, to a sense of- well, why should she really care? She didn't need a name in this moment. She didn't need to know why she was here. What mattered was simply that she was, and that was something she would have to make do with. Answers are overrated. Simply.. allowing whatever this is to happen, seems the best path of action.
The stars stretch endless above her head. They wink and glimmer in the sky, like tiny holes poked in the dark fabric of the cosmos, to let the light from the rest of all shine through.. but her attention wasn't on that. It wasn't on anything, much. She didn't have a reason to go anywhere. Nor to do anything. So, instead- she returned to where she'd awoken. The hole, the dip. She curled herself around the whatever-it-was, and tucked her nose against it. She was sure someone would find them. Whoever that may be.
---
Alright! I'm so sorry this took me a month to get to??? I haven't been able to write anything half decent for a while, and I hope that you enjoy this even with the wait you had to endure!! I think the lore of your lair is super cool, and it was awesome to write for you, even if I did take so long.
Thank you for buying from Moonmere!! Have a fantastic day!
Story for @AlienNation ! Sorry for delay!
Andromeda was falling. Falling from the heavens, and that she knew. Her body was lit aflame, the speed at which she was falling too quick to be without such an entrance. This place- She didn't know where it was, but she did know one thing, and that was simply that she needed to keep this egg safe. It was far more fragile than she- She could take the heat. The impact she knew was coming. But that fear lingered. What if the egg failed to take the landing. Her claws scrabbled along the surface of the egg and she felt herself screaming, with her body moving too quick, so that by the time she'd let the sound go, it was already far behind her, beyond her hearing. She would be fine- She had to be fine- she curled around the egg, what mattered more than her was-
...
The dragon stirred. A low groan left them, as pain ran ruthlessly through their body. They were on their side, uncomfortable, sprawled out in a spot on ground that was unfamiliar to them. They were in pain. Slowly- slowly, the eased themself unsteadily to their feet. And something tumbled out of their grasp.
Twisting to look at the thing- and gaining a sharp crick in their neck, causing them to wince down, dropping to a kneeling stance and pressing their head in against the dirt- the smoldering dirt, but the heat didn't bother them as perhaps it should. In fact, it felt nice against their head. They rested for a moment, feeling comforted, feeling slightly more at ease. Before their curiosity was remembered, and their head lifted to look at the object they seemed to have been holding.
It was perfectly round.. Floating, just so slightly, above the ground- Streaks of something orbited the object, and the dragon was entransed. She drew closer, nudging her nose to the object, only to feel its warmth. It startled her, but she quickly scolded herself for such behaviour. They were surrounded by warmth, it only makes sense for this whatever it is to be warm.
She inspected closer, squinting at the object. Something in her chest stirred. She didn't know what it was- but very quickly, she was realizing.. there was much that she didn't know. For example- Where was she? More pressing, Who was she? Why did she have this mysterious thing, why did she want to take it into her arms and hold it? More and more questions arose in her, none of which she could find answers for. one of her clawed feet finds it's way to her head, and she presses it hard to the center of the surface, trying to recall any of the information she so desired. Only to come up with nothing. Disorientation filled her, as she could come up with nothing but blank.
Her gaze falls back to the sphere, and she hesitates, before drawing it into her arms, rising, and stepping slowly out of the circle of dirt. Searching around it, for any sign of who she might be, but once again she was met with nothing. Their identity was lost to them.
But really, did that matter so much? If it were unimportant enough that she could have lost it, did it matter in the first place? She had no pretty words for what she felt- and she was hardly sure she felt anything at all, but for the faint and lingering confusion that sat so prominently in the forefront of her mind. There are very few pretty words for when one has lost all sense of who they were.
Three times, her feet guide her around the circle. The circle, with such a large dip in the middle- Her movements are hindered, of course, by the thing she clutches so tightly to her chest, feeling it the only way to interact with the object. But no explanation for anything is offered to her. It's hard to feel disappointment, though, when you don't know what you were looking for in the first place. The closest you can feel- and something that often gets confused with the real thing- is a strange sense of entitlement. That you should know, and yet you don't. That is what this particular Dragon was undergoing- Something that she was sure was disappointment.
Her gaze turns upwards. Curiosity still lingers with her, but it's fading. Slowly, to a sense of- well, why should she really care? She didn't need a name in this moment. She didn't need to know why she was here. What mattered was simply that she was, and that was something she would have to make do with. Answers are overrated. Simply.. allowing whatever this is to happen, seems the best path of action.
The stars stretch endless above her head. They wink and glimmer in the sky, like tiny holes poked in the dark fabric of the cosmos, to let the light from the rest of all shine through.. but her attention wasn't on that. It wasn't on anything, much. She didn't have a reason to go anywhere. Nor to do anything. So, instead- she returned to where she'd awoken. The hole, the dip. She curled herself around the whatever-it-was, and tucked her nose against it. She was sure someone would find them. Whoever that may be.
---
Alright! I'm so sorry this took me a month to get to??? I haven't been able to write anything half decent for a while, and I hope that you enjoy this even with the wait you had to endure!! I think the lore of your lair is super cool, and it was awesome to write for you, even if I did take so long.
Thank you for buying from Moonmere!! Have a fantastic day!
Andromeda was falling. Falling from the heavens, and that she knew. Her body was lit aflame, the speed at which she was falling too quick to be without such an entrance. This place- She didn't know where it was, but she did know one thing, and that was simply that she needed to keep this egg safe. It was far more fragile than she- She could take the heat. The impact she knew was coming. But that fear lingered. What if the egg failed to take the landing. Her claws scrabbled along the surface of the egg and she felt herself screaming, with her body moving too quick, so that by the time she'd let the sound go, it was already far behind her, beyond her hearing. She would be fine- She had to be fine- she curled around the egg, what mattered more than her was-
...
The dragon stirred. A low groan left them, as pain ran ruthlessly through their body. They were on their side, uncomfortable, sprawled out in a spot on ground that was unfamiliar to them. They were in pain. Slowly- slowly, the eased themself unsteadily to their feet. And something tumbled out of their grasp.
Twisting to look at the thing- and gaining a sharp crick in their neck, causing them to wince down, dropping to a kneeling stance and pressing their head in against the dirt- the smoldering dirt, but the heat didn't bother them as perhaps it should. In fact, it felt nice against their head. They rested for a moment, feeling comforted, feeling slightly more at ease. Before their curiosity was remembered, and their head lifted to look at the object they seemed to have been holding.
It was perfectly round.. Floating, just so slightly, above the ground- Streaks of something orbited the object, and the dragon was entransed. She drew closer, nudging her nose to the object, only to feel its warmth. It startled her, but she quickly scolded herself for such behaviour. They were surrounded by warmth, it only makes sense for this whatever it is to be warm.
She inspected closer, squinting at the object. Something in her chest stirred. She didn't know what it was- but very quickly, she was realizing.. there was much that she didn't know. For example- Where was she? More pressing, Who was she? Why did she have this mysterious thing, why did she want to take it into her arms and hold it? More and more questions arose in her, none of which she could find answers for. one of her clawed feet finds it's way to her head, and she presses it hard to the center of the surface, trying to recall any of the information she so desired. Only to come up with nothing. Disorientation filled her, as she could come up with nothing but blank.
Her gaze falls back to the sphere, and she hesitates, before drawing it into her arms, rising, and stepping slowly out of the circle of dirt. Searching around it, for any sign of who she might be, but once again she was met with nothing. Their identity was lost to them.
But really, did that matter so much? If it were unimportant enough that she could have lost it, did it matter in the first place? She had no pretty words for what she felt- and she was hardly sure she felt anything at all, but for the faint and lingering confusion that sat so prominently in the forefront of her mind. There are very few pretty words for when one has lost all sense of who they were.
Three times, her feet guide her around the circle. The circle, with such a large dip in the middle- Her movements are hindered, of course, by the thing she clutches so tightly to her chest, feeling it the only way to interact with the object. But no explanation for anything is offered to her. It's hard to feel disappointment, though, when you don't know what you were looking for in the first place. The closest you can feel- and something that often gets confused with the real thing- is a strange sense of entitlement. That you should know, and yet you don't. That is what this particular Dragon was undergoing- Something that she was sure was disappointment.
Her gaze turns upwards. Curiosity still lingers with her, but it's fading. Slowly, to a sense of- well, why should she really care? She didn't need a name in this moment. She didn't need to know why she was here. What mattered was simply that she was, and that was something she would have to make do with. Answers are overrated. Simply.. allowing whatever this is to happen, seems the best path of action.
The stars stretch endless above her head. They wink and glimmer in the sky, like tiny holes poked in the dark fabric of the cosmos, to let the light from the rest of all shine through.. but her attention wasn't on that. It wasn't on anything, much. She didn't have a reason to go anywhere. Nor to do anything. So, instead- she returned to where she'd awoken. The hole, the dip. She curled herself around the whatever-it-was, and tucked her nose against it. She was sure someone would find them. Whoever that may be.
---
Alright! I'm so sorry this took me a month to get to??? I haven't been able to write anything half decent for a while, and I hope that you enjoy this even with the wait you had to endure!! I think the lore of your lair is super cool, and it was awesome to write for you, even if I did take so long.
Thank you for buying from Moonmere!! Have a fantastic day!
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@skysailsequence Sure!! Will give you a warning that I'm a little held up right now, so the wait might be a bit, but if you want the slots they're all yours!
@skysailsequence Sure!! Will give you a warning that I'm a little held up right now, so the wait might be a bit, but if you want the slots they're all yours!
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@Boop707 @Mesai
Oh.. my gods. It's been like four months??? Hello hi ! I'm still alive, Moonmere, And I'm going to be updating my shop! So- For now!!- it's closing. The break'll probably be a couple days, for me to make graphics/revamp the place, but I'm coming back y'all!!
Oh.. my gods. It's been like four months??? Hello hi ! I'm still alive, Moonmere, And I'm going to be updating my shop! So- For now!!- it's closing. The break'll probably be a couple days, for me to make graphics/revamp the place, but I'm coming back y'all!!