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Awilixi OW MY HEART
Poor baby, all she did is what she was born to do and made to do...it's not her fault ;v;
It does suck that the Skydancer died. She was gorgeous :o
@
Awilixi OW MY HEART
Poor baby, all she did is what she was born to do and made to do...it's not her fault ;v;
It does suck that the Skydancer died. She was gorgeous :o
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Oh gosh, I've been far too busy. I haven't had the chance to post recently, but I'm going to finish the battle between Maelona and Noisur before I write the hatching of the third generation - who are now a week old, oops!
Oh gosh, I've been far too busy. I haven't had the chance to post recently, but I'm going to finish the battle between Maelona and Noisur before I write the hatching of the third generation - who are now a week old, oops!
[center][font=3]The tension lingered in the warm summer air as Morgana looked upon her elder sister's broken family. There was little sympathy in her gaze, her stark white eyes following Alusair as he sullenly guided his wounded children out of the arena. It was difficult to notice, but her keen eyes picked up their shallow breathing as they passed her. A pity. Her nieces would grow to be cripples; was that what her sister wanted of her legacy? As her sight settled on her own children, she silently prayed she had taught them enough that only one of them would be left standing for good.
Maelona, her beautiful daughter, stood tall and proud beside Morgana, her ever present smirk gracing her confident expression. On her other side, Noisur mirrored his sister's stance. They were perfect counterparts to one another and though any emotion from her was hard-earned, she was proud. The perfect specimens - whoever won, they would serve her well.
With her fallen nieces rounded up and accompanied to the clan's resting room, Ranmir directed his children - his warriors - into the coliseum. They locked eyes, a spark of rivalry alight in the look they shared. Ever since their hatching, the two had always fought for dominance and the scars they gained were worn like trophies, on display for any traveler's to see.
"Are you ready to meet the Icewarden, brother?" Maelona called, her deep voice chirping with humor. He snorted, nostrils flaring in mild irritation, but he seemed to shake the insult off with little acknowledgment. There was no retort from him; he had never been one for verbal assault and he had long since learned to let Maelona get the better of him this way.
Noisur lowered his head, his entire body growing rigid. His sharp talons dug into the earth beneath him and he readied himself for Maelona's attacks. Born different breeds, their combat differed in style as well. Although they were similar in stature, Guardians generally fell into a more defensive strategy, while Ridgebacks often relied on their temper and eagerness to guide their strikes.
Maelona would not allow herself to fall to her brother. A rumble emitted from her throat as she approached him, sharp canines revealed in a threatening cry, but he was not deterred. No matter, she thought as she began to pick up speed towards him. She would dismantle him and claim her right as Morgana's sole heir.
He hadn't stood a chance. It was surprising to all of them that when Maelona lunged at her younger brother, he collapsed beneath her. Snow swirled around the two beasts as they clashed, the Ridgeback not holding back in her assault on her sibling. Crimson bled through his scales, collecting along the vibrant shade that contoured his body. A grim sight to be sure, but there was beauty to behold in the scene that unfolded before them.
Pained hisses and cries echoed throughout the tundra as they fought, the two struggling against one another as they fought for victory. Morgana, atop her throne, watched in delight as her own flesh and blood turned on each other - all for her.
As the ice storm settled, so did the noise. A sharp hiss hung in the air, cut off by the weight of Maelona's toes as she crushed her brother beneath her. "You could never defeat me, Noisur," she growled lowly, her empty eyes staring down into his, void of any life. She was delighted. "Mother," she called out, gaze snapping onto her dear idol. "I hope I have pleased you."
"You have, Maelona," the Guardian cooed affectionately, her daughter staring up at her with curiosity. All their life, they had never been called anything more than "daughter" or "son". Was this her reward for pleasing her lifegiver? She would not disappoint her again.
"Ranmir!" Morgana called harshly for her mate, pleased at his immediate presence. "Take Noisur to the dining pile. He could not meet his destiny, but that does not mean he can't still serve us." He was dismissed with a shuffle of her wings and when the two were alone once more, she turned to her heir. "Now, let us find you a suitable mate."
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The tension lingered in the warm summer air as Morgana looked upon her elder sister's broken family. There was little sympathy in her gaze, her stark white eyes following Alusair as he sullenly guided his wounded children out of the arena. It was difficult to notice, but her keen eyes picked up their shallow breathing as they passed her. A pity. Her nieces would grow to be cripples; was that what her sister wanted of her legacy? As her sight settled on her own children, she silently prayed she had taught them enough that only one of them would be left standing for good.
Maelona, her beautiful daughter, stood tall and proud beside Morgana, her ever present smirk gracing her confident expression. On her other side, Noisur mirrored his sister's stance. They were perfect counterparts to one another and though any emotion from her was hard-earned, she was proud. The perfect specimens - whoever won, they would serve her well.
With her fallen nieces rounded up and accompanied to the clan's resting room, Ranmir directed his children - his warriors - into the coliseum. They locked eyes, a spark of rivalry alight in the look they shared. Ever since their hatching, the two had always fought for dominance and the scars they gained were worn like trophies, on display for any traveler's to see.
"Are you ready to meet the Icewarden, brother?" Maelona called, her deep voice chirping with humor. He snorted, nostrils flaring in mild irritation, but he seemed to shake the insult off with little acknowledgment. There was no retort from him; he had never been one for verbal assault and he had long since learned to let Maelona get the better of him this way.
Noisur lowered his head, his entire body growing rigid. His sharp talons dug into the earth beneath him and he readied himself for Maelona's attacks. Born different breeds, their combat differed in style as well. Although they were similar in stature, Guardians generally fell into a more defensive strategy, while Ridgebacks often relied on their temper and eagerness to guide their strikes.
Maelona would not allow herself to fall to her brother. A rumble emitted from her throat as she approached him, sharp canines revealed in a threatening cry, but he was not deterred. No matter, she thought as she began to pick up speed towards him. She would dismantle him and claim her right as Morgana's sole heir.
He hadn't stood a chance. It was surprising to all of them that when Maelona lunged at her younger brother, he collapsed beneath her. Snow swirled around the two beasts as they clashed, the Ridgeback not holding back in her assault on her sibling. Crimson bled through his scales, collecting along the vibrant shade that contoured his body. A grim sight to be sure, but there was beauty to behold in the scene that unfolded before them.
Pained hisses and cries echoed throughout the tundra as they fought, the two struggling against one another as they fought for victory. Morgana, atop her throne, watched in delight as her own flesh and blood turned on each other - all for her.
As the ice storm settled, so did the noise. A sharp hiss hung in the air, cut off by the weight of Maelona's toes as she crushed her brother beneath her. "You could never defeat me, Noisur," she growled lowly, her empty eyes staring down into his, void of any life. She was delighted. "Mother," she called out, gaze snapping onto her dear idol. "I hope I have pleased you."
"You have, Maelona," the Guardian cooed affectionately, her daughter staring up at her with curiosity. All their life, they had never been called anything more than "daughter" or "son". Was this her reward for pleasing her lifegiver? She would not disappoint her again.
"Ranmir!" Morgana called harshly for her mate, pleased at his immediate presence. "Take Noisur to the dining pile. He could not meet his destiny, but that does not mean he can't still serve us." He was dismissed with a shuffle of her wings and when the two were alone once more, she turned to her heir. "Now, let us find you a suitable mate."
[center][font=3]Since her birth, all Anoushka had tried to do was please her mother. And yet, all she seemed to be able to do was anger her. The weeks following her victory had seen little interaction between them, though not for lacking of trying. Mokairum was in mourning, as was she, but they needed each other now more than ever. Her father tried his hardest to mend the fragile relationship, but even he was of little help.
Illyan was meant to be her mate, Alusair's final attempt to strengthen the bond between them once more. A fellow Lightweaver follower he had come to know in his travels - a good man with strong genes and a handsome appearance. An Imperial who would help carry their dynasty on his back, bridging the gap that Anoushka had left in their legacy. But it wasn't meant to be. She had eyes for another - her cousin's betrothed.
Mokairum was [b]infuriated[/b] to learn of her daughter's affair with the hideous Ridgeback hand-picked for Maelona. Anoushka had attempted to calm her, pleading with her that she was in love. "Love?! Do you think love will win us our home?" She had cried out in exasperation. "He was an Imperial! A warrior! He would have brought you beautiful children and you spat in his face. [i]You[/i]. Undeserving and [i]weak[/i]. You had no right to refuse him." Her bitter words turned sour in her mouth and she fell quiet, turning away from her sole daughter. "If your sisters were here....they would never have brought me so much shame."
That was the last she had spoken to her mother, though everyone had endured her rage when the announcement of Maelona and Illyan's nest had arrived. Morgana was beside herself with joy.
It was a surprise to both Anou and Blight when Mokairum joined them the morning of the hatching. "I only wish to see my grandchildren," she spoke softly, her eyes never once meeting her daughter's. She was hurt, of course, but grateful and happy that her own children might feel the love of Mokairum that she had lost the day she emerged from the coliseum.
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&id=0&tab=dragon&did=34644200][img]http://flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=0&body=103&bodygene=0&breed=2&element=6&gender=1&tert=52&tertgene=0&winggene=6&wings=46&auth=50dedb1c83b6ecc5d9dff1ac5688bbf5fe7402d4&dummyext=prev.png[/img][/url]
Acantha was the first to emerge from the frozen confines of her egg, chirping excitedly at the sight that greeted her. Anoushka cooed at her first child, gingerly scooping her up in her paws,
helping her shake off the remnants of the shell that clung to her. Mokairum peered down at her first grandchild, narrow eyes scrutinizing her harshly before her features softened, much to Anou's relief. "She is....not ideal. But she is my flesh and blood," she whispered softly, gently tapping her nose against the little one's cheek.
The second of her eggs began to shake, the hushed noises gathering the attention of the four.
Anou quickly passed Acantha off to her mother, inching closer to her unhatched child.
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=34644201]
[img]http://flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=0&body=103&bodygene=0&breed=2&element=6&gender=0&tert=104&tertgene=0&winggene=6&wings=56&auth=db0340c4ff067f2b8c1c1c84a7dd13361c5c71e9&dummyext=prev.png[/img]
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From it, a tiny head popped out, practically identical to its sibling. Anou watched with baited breath, wondering if she had perhaps laid twins? A terrible curse to be sure and a heart-wrenching thought that she quickly put out of mind. As he crawled out of his egg, she was relieved to see his darker wings. At least neither would have that hanging over their heads when the time came to fight.
"A boy," Mokai hummed in delight when he was fully out of his shell, joining his older sister.
"I pray he is strong enough to carry on our legacy." Blight named him. Cassiel.
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=view&id=0&tab=dragon&did=34644202][img]http://flightrising.com/dgen/preview/dragon?age=0&body=105&bodygene=2&breed=2&element=6&gender=1&tert=165&tertgene=0&winggene=0&wings=86&auth=b880b845e1bdc801c749667e399fe9fe66517b5b&dummyext=prev.png[/img][/url]
From the moment she had broken through her egg, Adalee had won her grandmother's affections. "Oh look at her," she cooed in delight, nuzzling against her tiny body. The show of love warmed Anou's heart. They may not have been as beautiful as the hatchlings Illyan would have given her, or her sister's, but her mother seemed pleased and she loved them all. That was all that mattered.
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Since her birth, all Anoushka had tried to do was please her mother. And yet, all she seemed to be able to do was anger her. The weeks following her victory had seen little interaction between them, though not for lacking of trying. Mokairum was in mourning, as was she, but they needed each other now more than ever. Her father tried his hardest to mend the fragile relationship, but even he was of little help.
Illyan was meant to be her mate, Alusair's final attempt to strengthen the bond between them once more. A fellow Lightweaver follower he had come to know in his travels - a good man with strong genes and a handsome appearance. An Imperial who would help carry their dynasty on his back, bridging the gap that Anoushka had left in their legacy. But it wasn't meant to be. She had eyes for another - her cousin's betrothed.
Mokairum was infuriated to learn of her daughter's affair with the hideous Ridgeback hand-picked for Maelona. Anoushka had attempted to calm her, pleading with her that she was in love. "Love?! Do you think love will win us our home?" She had cried out in exasperation. "He was an Imperial! A warrior! He would have brought you beautiful children and you spat in his face. You. Undeserving and weak. You had no right to refuse him." Her bitter words turned sour in her mouth and she fell quiet, turning away from her sole daughter. "If your sisters were here....they would never have brought me so much shame."
That was the last she had spoken to her mother, though everyone had endured her rage when the announcement of Maelona and Illyan's nest had arrived. Morgana was beside herself with joy.
It was a surprise to both Anou and Blight when Mokairum joined them the morning of the hatching. "I only wish to see my grandchildren," she spoke softly, her eyes never once meeting her daughter's. She was hurt, of course, but grateful and happy that her own children might feel the love of Mokairum that she had lost the day she emerged from the coliseum.
Acantha was the first to emerge from the frozen confines of her egg, chirping excitedly at the sight that greeted her. Anoushka cooed at her first child, gingerly scooping her up in her paws,
helping her shake off the remnants of the shell that clung to her. Mokairum peered down at her first grandchild, narrow eyes scrutinizing her harshly before her features softened, much to Anou's relief. "She is....not ideal. But she is my flesh and blood," she whispered softly, gently tapping her nose against the little one's cheek.
The second of her eggs began to shake, the hushed noises gathering the attention of the four.
Anou quickly passed Acantha off to her mother, inching closer to her unhatched child.
From it, a tiny head popped out, practically identical to its sibling. Anou watched with baited breath, wondering if she had perhaps laid twins? A terrible curse to be sure and a heart-wrenching thought that she quickly put out of mind. As he crawled out of his egg, she was relieved to see his darker wings. At least neither would have that hanging over their heads when the time came to fight.
"A boy," Mokai hummed in delight when he was fully out of his shell, joining his older sister.
"I pray he is strong enough to carry on our legacy." Blight named him. Cassiel.
From the moment she had broken through her egg, Adalee had won her grandmother's affections. "Oh look at her," she cooed in delight, nuzzling against her tiny body. The show of love warmed Anou's heart. They may not have been as beautiful as the hatchlings Illyan would have given her, or her sister's, but her mother seemed pleased and she loved them all. That was all that mattered.
