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TOPIC | [FULL] Wilde's Lair Reviews
I’d like a standard lair review!
Username: Quintillion
Number of Dragons: 8
Notes: anyone from the first 4 tabs of my lair or the first 3 tabs of my den is fine, just ignore the obviously incomplete ones >>;;
Also, do you have a pinglist for when your slots will re-open?
Username: Quintillion
Number of Dragons: 8
Notes: anyone from the first 4 tabs of my lair or the first 3 tabs of my den is fine, just ignore the obviously incomplete ones >>;;
Also, do you have a pinglist for when your slots will re-open?
I’d like a standard lair review!
Username: Quintillion
Number of Dragons: 8
Notes: anyone from the first 4 tabs of my lair or the first 3 tabs of my den is fine, just ignore the obviously incomplete ones >>;;
Also, do you have a pinglist for when your slots will re-open?
Username: Quintillion
Number of Dragons: 8
Notes: anyone from the first 4 tabs of my lair or the first 3 tabs of my den is fine, just ignore the obviously incomplete ones >>;;
Also, do you have a pinglist for when your slots will re-open?
I’d like a standard lair review!
Username: Myndris
Number of Dragons: 5
Notes: I prefer the following tabs be the only ones considered for reviews: Tribe of the Lost - excluding the Guide who is only there to explain some overall lore. Some other tabs I enjoy reviews for are: Explorer's League(especially Bojangles!), the "Hmmm.." tab, Smorch, and my Random Pretties. Tribe of the Lost, Explorer's League, and "Hmm" have lore - though not everyone has it in their bio yet. Feel free to comment on whatever though!
EDIT: (oops, I might be too late lol)
Username: Myndris
Number of Dragons: 5
Notes: I prefer the following tabs be the only ones considered for reviews: Tribe of the Lost - excluding the Guide who is only there to explain some overall lore. Some other tabs I enjoy reviews for are: Explorer's League(especially Bojangles!), the "Hmmm.." tab, Smorch, and my Random Pretties. Tribe of the Lost, Explorer's League, and "Hmm" have lore - though not everyone has it in their bio yet. Feel free to comment on whatever though!
EDIT: (oops, I might be too late lol)
I’d like a standard lair review!
Username: Myndris
Number of Dragons: 5
Notes: I prefer the following tabs be the only ones considered for reviews: Tribe of the Lost - excluding the Guide who is only there to explain some overall lore. Some other tabs I enjoy reviews for are: Explorer's League(especially Bojangles!), the "Hmmm.." tab, Smorch, and my Random Pretties. Tribe of the Lost, Explorer's League, and "Hmm" have lore - though not everyone has it in their bio yet. Feel free to comment on whatever though!
EDIT: (oops, I might be too late lol)
Username: Myndris
Number of Dragons: 5
Notes: I prefer the following tabs be the only ones considered for reviews: Tribe of the Lost - excluding the Guide who is only there to explain some overall lore. Some other tabs I enjoy reviews for are: Explorer's League(especially Bojangles!), the "Hmmm.." tab, Smorch, and my Random Pretties. Tribe of the Lost, Explorer's League, and "Hmm" have lore - though not everyone has it in their bio yet. Feel free to comment on whatever though!
EDIT: (oops, I might be too late lol)
@Quintillion Sure thing, that'll be 80kt or 80 gems! And I do have a pinglist for open slots, I'll add you now.
@Myndris You know what, I can squeeze you in! Slots are just so I don't get a ridiculous backlog built up but one extra won't hurt at all. It'll be 50kt or 50 gems!
@Myndris You know what, I can squeeze you in! Slots are just so I don't get a ridiculous backlog built up but one extra won't hurt at all. It'll be 50kt or 50 gems!
@Quintillion Sure thing, that'll be 80kt or 80 gems! And I do have a pinglist for open slots, I'll add you now.
@Myndris You know what, I can squeeze you in! Slots are just so I don't get a ridiculous backlog built up but one extra won't hurt at all. It'll be 50kt or 50 gems!
@Myndris You know what, I can squeeze you in! Slots are just so I don't get a ridiculous backlog built up but one extra won't hurt at all. It'll be 50kt or 50 gems!
I totally understand that, lol. Thank you so much!
I totally understand that, lol. Thank you so much!
@wildewinged
Aaaaaaa!! I love how you word your thoughts,makes me want to extend my own vocabulary to sound nearly as eloquent as you! thank you once more!
Aaaaaaa!! I love how you word your thoughts,makes me want to extend my own vocabulary to sound nearly as eloquent as you! thank you once more!
@wildewinged
Aaaaaaa!! I love how you word your thoughts,makes me want to extend my own vocabulary to sound nearly as eloquent as you! thank you once more!
Aaaaaaa!! I love how you word your thoughts,makes me want to extend my own vocabulary to sound nearly as eloquent as you! thank you once more!
@Driamatic Here’s your review, I hope you enjoy Sivath’s visit! She certainly had a very interesting time…
(side note that I read through your lore thread, it was so good! the formatting is gorgeous and I love the way it's written almost in the style of a fable or legend, it gives such great atmosphere!)
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[center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=10738551]
[img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/107386/10738551_350.png[/img]
[/url][/center]
[font=constantia]Sivath paces down the well-worn road, squinting into the setting sun toward the city ahead. Mountains rise up behind it, and it would look wholly forbidding if not for the warm golden lights dotted throughout the buildings and the well-kept road, bustling with travelers even at this late hour.
It suits Sivath perfectly well to enter as just another nomad or traveler, the calculating slide of her eyes over walls and guard postings easily mistaken for the gawking of a tourist. She’s oddly excited to see the guards moving about on regular patrols - guards mean there’s something worth protecting, as rumored, and her cynical side says that citizens alone aren’t worth quite this many.
[center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=43926910]
[img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/439270/43926910_350.png[/img]
[/url][/center]
[font=constantia]She approaches one of them after a few minutes of watching. At first glance she’s the stereotypical Light clan dragon even with bright Fire eyes, her golden silks yawn-inducing in their predictability. Still, Sivath has to admit she’s intrigued as she notes the way the guard watches the crowd, eyes flicking to just the same places Sivath’s do - dangling purses, unattended carts, bags slipping from a shoulder. She has the eyes of a thief, and - Sivath blinks - the arms of one too. Imagine what she could pocket, with three times as many hands to do it with!
And yet, somehow she’s trusted enough to be a guard. Sivath wonders whether the leadership here is foolish - which bodes well for her enterprises - or deeply softhearted - which certainly doesn’t hurt her chances either.
“You need something?” the guard barks.
Sivath blinks, letting her surprise at being addressed in such a way show. The guard scuffs a claw in the dirt and looks a little sheepish, so she lets it be. “Yes, actually. Those are some lovely pieces of jewelry you have, did you get them here in the city?”
“Oh… thanks,” the guard says. “Can’t remember exactly where I got all of them, but the market always has a good selection.” She points down one of the streets with one hand. Another still rests on her sword hilt, but it’s relaxed, so Sivath doesn’t let it bother her.
“Wonderful, thank you…?”
“Nikoria,” the guard supplies.
“Many thanks, Nikoria.” Sivath commits it to memory, and decides to ask around to see if anyone in her underground circles remembers the name. It could become useful someday.
She ventures along the street Nikoria had indicated, happy to see most of the shops aren’t closing down yet even though night has started to fall. One catches her eye, the glint and gleam of trinkets visible through the shop windows. When she pushes open the door to step inside, a bell jingles softly, the quiet of the shop in sharp contrast to the bustle of the street outside.
The shelves practically overflow with a multitude of trinkets and treasures, overwhelming the eye. Beyond that, there’s a low thrum of magic, making Sivath’s mane stand on end before she shakes herself to settle it. There doesn’t seem to be anyone in the shop, which is odd enough - nor are there lamps, and yet golden light gleams on every shiny surface, so many reflections she can’t seem to locate the source. She looks over jewelry, tiny enameled boxes, dainty statuettes - even one on a high shelf that’s the size of a full-grown fae.
[center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=47484007]
[img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/474841/47484007_350.png[/img]
[/url][/center]
[font=constantia]It seems to be the source of the light, actually. It gleams from each eye, bright enough that it’s hard for her to look at it directly. Still, from what Sivath can see the artist has taken some liberties, giving the fae many more wings than it should have, each of them delicately feathered. It really is a lovely piece of work, though she can’t imagine why someone would drape silks over a statue. She reaches up to nudge one aside, wanting a better look at the intricate detailing.
“It’s rude to touch without asking.”
Sivath stifles her yelp with effort but can’t help jumping back. The statue [i]moved[/i]. No, not a statue - an actual fae, fluttering that multitude of feathered wings to glide gently to the floor. She almost expects the sharp clack of porcelain or stone on the ground, but there’s just the soft scrape of claws like any other dragon. He cocks his head to one side, eyes narrowing, and that slight decrease in that glaring light lets Sivath catch a glimpse of his face - not quite like a normal fae’s either, with ears standing tall on his head, an almost catlike shape to his mouth. “Looking for something.”
“I’m not looking for anything in particular, just browsing,” Sivath says smoothly. [i]Lies[/i] smoothly, since “smuggling routes” is hardly a good conversation opener.
His head tilts to the other side. “Not a question. You’re looking. Think I can help you find it?”
Sivath balances her desire to make a profit with spending another minute with this [i]extremely[/i] strange fae. Well… profit can be found in many places. “Perhaps another time,” she says, and quickly takes her leave.
@Driamatic Here’s your review, I hope you enjoy Sivath’s visit! She certainly had a very interesting time…
(side note that I read through your lore thread, it was so good! the formatting is gorgeous and I love the way it's written almost in the style of a fable or legend, it gives such great atmosphere!)
Sivath paces down the well-worn road, squinting into the setting sun toward the city ahead. Mountains rise up behind it, and it would look wholly forbidding if not for the warm golden lights dotted throughout the buildings and the well-kept road, bustling with travelers even at this late hour.
It suits Sivath perfectly well to enter as just another nomad or traveler, the calculating slide of her eyes over walls and guard postings easily mistaken for the gawking of a tourist. She’s oddly excited to see the guards moving about on regular patrols - guards mean there’s something worth protecting, as rumored, and her cynical side says that citizens alone aren’t worth quite this many.
She approaches one of them after a few minutes of watching. At first glance she’s the stereotypical Light clan dragon even with bright Fire eyes, her golden silks yawn-inducing in their predictability. Still, Sivath has to admit she’s intrigued as she notes the way the guard watches the crowd, eyes flicking to just the same places Sivath’s do - dangling purses, unattended carts, bags slipping from a shoulder. She has the eyes of a thief, and - Sivath blinks - the arms of one too. Imagine what she could pocket, with three times as many hands to do it with!
And yet, somehow she’s trusted enough to be a guard. Sivath wonders whether the leadership here is foolish - which bodes well for her enterprises - or deeply softhearted - which certainly doesn’t hurt her chances either.
“You need something?” the guard barks.
Sivath blinks, letting her surprise at being addressed in such a way show. The guard scuffs a claw in the dirt and looks a little sheepish, so she lets it be. “Yes, actually. Those are some lovely pieces of jewelry you have, did you get them here in the city?”
“Oh… thanks,” the guard says. “Can’t remember exactly where I got all of them, but the market always has a good selection.” She points down one of the streets with one hand. Another still rests on her sword hilt, but it’s relaxed, so Sivath doesn’t let it bother her.
“Wonderful, thank you…?”
“Nikoria,” the guard supplies.
“Many thanks, Nikoria.” Sivath commits it to memory, and decides to ask around to see if anyone in her underground circles remembers the name. It could become useful someday.
She ventures along the street Nikoria had indicated, happy to see most of the shops aren’t closing down yet even though night has started to fall. One catches her eye, the glint and gleam of trinkets visible through the shop windows. When she pushes open the door to step inside, a bell jingles softly, the quiet of the shop in sharp contrast to the bustle of the street outside.
The shelves practically overflow with a multitude of trinkets and treasures, overwhelming the eye. Beyond that, there’s a low thrum of magic, making Sivath’s mane stand on end before she shakes herself to settle it. There doesn’t seem to be anyone in the shop, which is odd enough - nor are there lamps, and yet golden light gleams on every shiny surface, so many reflections she can’t seem to locate the source. She looks over jewelry, tiny enameled boxes, dainty statuettes - even one on a high shelf that’s the size of a full-grown fae.
It seems to be the source of the light, actually. It gleams from each eye, bright enough that it’s hard for her to look at it directly. Still, from what Sivath can see the artist has taken some liberties, giving the fae many more wings than it should have, each of them delicately feathered. It really is a lovely piece of work, though she can’t imagine why someone would drape silks over a statue. She reaches up to nudge one aside, wanting a better look at the intricate detailing.
“It’s rude to touch without asking.”
Sivath stifles her yelp with effort but can’t help jumping back. The statue moved. No, not a statue - an actual fae, fluttering that multitude of feathered wings to glide gently to the floor. She almost expects the sharp clack of porcelain or stone on the ground, but there’s just the soft scrape of claws like any other dragon. He cocks his head to one side, eyes narrowing, and that slight decrease in that glaring light lets Sivath catch a glimpse of his face - not quite like a normal fae’s either, with ears standing tall on his head, an almost catlike shape to his mouth. “Looking for something.”
“I’m not looking for anything in particular, just browsing,” Sivath says smoothly. Lies smoothly, since “smuggling routes” is hardly a good conversation opener.
His head tilts to the other side. “Not a question. You’re looking. Think I can help you find it?”
Sivath balances her desire to make a profit with spending another minute with this extremely strange fae. Well… profit can be found in many places. “Perhaps another time,” she says, and quickly takes her leave.
(side note that I read through your lore thread, it was so good! the formatting is gorgeous and I love the way it's written almost in the style of a fable or legend, it gives such great atmosphere!)
Sivath paces down the well-worn road, squinting into the setting sun toward the city ahead. Mountains rise up behind it, and it would look wholly forbidding if not for the warm golden lights dotted throughout the buildings and the well-kept road, bustling with travelers even at this late hour.
It suits Sivath perfectly well to enter as just another nomad or traveler, the calculating slide of her eyes over walls and guard postings easily mistaken for the gawking of a tourist. She’s oddly excited to see the guards moving about on regular patrols - guards mean there’s something worth protecting, as rumored, and her cynical side says that citizens alone aren’t worth quite this many.
She approaches one of them after a few minutes of watching. At first glance she’s the stereotypical Light clan dragon even with bright Fire eyes, her golden silks yawn-inducing in their predictability. Still, Sivath has to admit she’s intrigued as she notes the way the guard watches the crowd, eyes flicking to just the same places Sivath’s do - dangling purses, unattended carts, bags slipping from a shoulder. She has the eyes of a thief, and - Sivath blinks - the arms of one too. Imagine what she could pocket, with three times as many hands to do it with!
And yet, somehow she’s trusted enough to be a guard. Sivath wonders whether the leadership here is foolish - which bodes well for her enterprises - or deeply softhearted - which certainly doesn’t hurt her chances either.
“You need something?” the guard barks.
Sivath blinks, letting her surprise at being addressed in such a way show. The guard scuffs a claw in the dirt and looks a little sheepish, so she lets it be. “Yes, actually. Those are some lovely pieces of jewelry you have, did you get them here in the city?”
“Oh… thanks,” the guard says. “Can’t remember exactly where I got all of them, but the market always has a good selection.” She points down one of the streets with one hand. Another still rests on her sword hilt, but it’s relaxed, so Sivath doesn’t let it bother her.
“Wonderful, thank you…?”
“Nikoria,” the guard supplies.
“Many thanks, Nikoria.” Sivath commits it to memory, and decides to ask around to see if anyone in her underground circles remembers the name. It could become useful someday.
She ventures along the street Nikoria had indicated, happy to see most of the shops aren’t closing down yet even though night has started to fall. One catches her eye, the glint and gleam of trinkets visible through the shop windows. When she pushes open the door to step inside, a bell jingles softly, the quiet of the shop in sharp contrast to the bustle of the street outside.
The shelves practically overflow with a multitude of trinkets and treasures, overwhelming the eye. Beyond that, there’s a low thrum of magic, making Sivath’s mane stand on end before she shakes herself to settle it. There doesn’t seem to be anyone in the shop, which is odd enough - nor are there lamps, and yet golden light gleams on every shiny surface, so many reflections she can’t seem to locate the source. She looks over jewelry, tiny enameled boxes, dainty statuettes - even one on a high shelf that’s the size of a full-grown fae.
It seems to be the source of the light, actually. It gleams from each eye, bright enough that it’s hard for her to look at it directly. Still, from what Sivath can see the artist has taken some liberties, giving the fae many more wings than it should have, each of them delicately feathered. It really is a lovely piece of work, though she can’t imagine why someone would drape silks over a statue. She reaches up to nudge one aside, wanting a better look at the intricate detailing.
“It’s rude to touch without asking.”
Sivath stifles her yelp with effort but can’t help jumping back. The statue moved. No, not a statue - an actual fae, fluttering that multitude of feathered wings to glide gently to the floor. She almost expects the sharp clack of porcelain or stone on the ground, but there’s just the soft scrape of claws like any other dragon. He cocks his head to one side, eyes narrowing, and that slight decrease in that glaring light lets Sivath catch a glimpse of his face - not quite like a normal fae’s either, with ears standing tall on his head, an almost catlike shape to his mouth. “Looking for something.”
“I’m not looking for anything in particular, just browsing,” Sivath says smoothly. Lies smoothly, since “smuggling routes” is hardly a good conversation opener.
His head tilts to the other side. “Not a question. You’re looking. Think I can help you find it?”
Sivath balances her desire to make a profit with spending another minute with this extremely strange fae. Well… profit can be found in many places. “Perhaps another time,” she says, and quickly takes her leave.
AHHH THANK YOU- it’s so neat seeing my dragons from the perspective of another omg,, makin me wanna work on my lore some more. Can’t wait for slots to open again so I can snag more hehe
Also HECK glad you liked my clan thread!! ;u;
Also HECK glad you liked my clan thread!! ;u;
AHHH THANK YOU- it’s so neat seeing my dragons from the perspective of another omg,, makin me wanna work on my lore some more. Can’t wait for slots to open again so I can snag more hehe
Also HECK glad you liked my clan thread!! ;u;
Also HECK glad you liked my clan thread!! ;u;
@Dawnfire13 Here’s your visit from T’Vran! It ended up being a real fluff-fest, I love all of your tundras and gaolers~
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[img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/30695/3069451_350.png[/img]
[/url][/center]
[font=constantia]I recently ventured to the Starwood Strand to pay a visit to the town of Arcstead. I’ll be honest, I nearly flew right over it despite getting very good directions! Perhaps I was over-dazzled by all of those striking pink rock formations, so different from the rolling sands of my home, but it took the pure white fur of a dragon below to actually catch my attention and bring me circling down into the hollow where the town made its home.
[center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=32298224]
[img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/322983/32298224_350.png[/img]
[/url][/center]
[font=constantia]Though I took caution in touching down and called a cheery hello - I realize that an unfamiliar guardian can be a bit of a surprise, especially given how much larger we are than most other species - I believe I startled her badly. She looked up at me with wide red eyes, stark against that snowy whiteness of her fur. I do hate to generalize, but her fright seemed quite at odds with her native element - perhaps partially explaining her presence here in the Strand.
In an effort at nonthreatening normalcy, I slowly drew out my map, unrolling it before her. Asking if I was indeed where I thought myself to be did serve to relax her enough that she spoke, though her voice was quiet enough that I had to lean in to hear. Tracing out the path I’d taken, she demonstrated good knowledge of the lay of the land, pointing out the origins of some of her clanmembers (who I dutifully made mental notes to speak to later). Her claw faltered over the Scarred Wasteland, and again at the Viridian Labyrinth, her gaze turning distant. After that she trailed off into silence again, and though the curiosity ate at me, I respectfully took my leave. Some stories are too painful to share with strangers, after all.
As I turned toward one of the cave entrances that led deeper into the town, I had the odd sense of being watched. When I glanced back at the white tundra she seemed focused on rearranging her necklace of flowers, and I couldn’t see anyone else nearby. Shrugging, I ducked into the nearest entrance, only to have my way blocked by another tundra - though quite different from the first I’d met here.
[center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=54902480]
[img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/549025/54902480_350.png[/img]
[/url][/center]
[font=constantia]Brown fur streaked with teal should have made her easy to spot against pink-streaked stone, but somehow she blended into the shadows, her eyes gleaming from under her hood. Her wings were flared in a threatening display, and the sharp flash of her fangs when she spoke backed it up more than her stature did. She asked what I had been doing to Muneca, and that confused me until I realized I hadn’t gotten the name of the white tundra.
My honest confusion seemed to reassure the brown tundra that I meant no harm, and she drew her wings in and introduced herself as Waneta, daughter to Muneca, the white tundra outside. It intrigued me to see her protectiveness of her mother, opposite to the mother-bear behavior I’d seen more often, but given Waneta’s forceful attitude and Muneca’s more timid nature, it was easy to see how a daughter’s love could translate to an urge to shield her mother from those who would hurt her.
[center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=48846203]
[img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/488463/48846203_350.png[/img]
[/url][/center]
[font=constantia]I proceeded further into the caves, and soon found myself following the sounds of laughter and play. Turning a corner, I found a room abuzz with hatchlings running and rolling about, watched over by a tundra who looked positively ethereal. Quite appropriate for the Arcane territory, her fur swirled with constellations, dotted with the bright glitter of stars. She quickly noticed me at the door, and after a brief introduction invited me to sit with her as she oversaw the hatchlings at play.
I was happy to rest after my long flight here, and we settled into conversation easily. She spoke with the relaxed grace of one who has experienced much, both through her own life and through watching her children grow. I found her to be an absolute goldmine of stories - she has had many hatchlings of her own, and grandchildren as well, and regaled me with tales of their childhood mischief and how they changed (or didn’t) as they grew.
As the hatchlings began to settle and nap after their playtime, the need for quiet quickly became evident. I took my leave from Theodosia and tiptoed back out into the warren of the caves.
Unfortunately, at that point it must have been nearing dusk, many of the town’s inhabitants settling in for the night much like the hatchlings had. Without anyone awake to share their stories with me there really wasn’t much point in staying longer, but then I ran into a secondary issue - I also wasn’t certain of the way back out, and by the time I realized how lost I had become the halls seemed empty.
About to resign myself to a night spent curled up on the hard stone floor, I caught sight of a furred tail flicking around a corner ahead. Perhaps one of the tundras I had met earlier? I bounded forward and came face to face with a dragon nearly as large as I was - certainly no tundra!
[center][url=https://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=52890957]
[img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/350/528910/52890957_350.png[/img]
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[font=constantia]He blinked eyes an unusual shade of green, cocking his head and shuffling long-clawed paws against the ground as if he was considering darting away. His fur was oddly patterned as well, almost as if pale pink mosaic tiles had been laid over his shaggy fur. Despite his size and formidable teeth and claws, the overall effect was of softness and sweetness. When I overcame my initial surprise and sheepishly explained how lost I was, he confirmed that impression, agreeing to lead me back to the entrance without hesitation.
As I bid him farewell and thanked him for his help, I already found myself excited for my next visit. Clearly there were a great many stories to tell here!
@Dawnfire13 Here’s your visit from T’Vran! It ended up being a real fluff-fest, I love all of your tundras and gaolers~
I recently ventured to the Starwood Strand to pay a visit to the town of Arcstead. I’ll be honest, I nearly flew right over it despite getting very good directions! Perhaps I was over-dazzled by all of those striking pink rock formations, so different from the rolling sands of my home, but it took the pure white fur of a dragon below to actually catch my attention and bring me circling down into the hollow where the town made its home.
Though I took caution in touching down and called a cheery hello - I realize that an unfamiliar guardian can be a bit of a surprise, especially given how much larger we are than most other species - I believe I startled her badly. She looked up at me with wide red eyes, stark against that snowy whiteness of her fur. I do hate to generalize, but her fright seemed quite at odds with her native element - perhaps partially explaining her presence here in the Strand.
In an effort at nonthreatening normalcy, I slowly drew out my map, unrolling it before her. Asking if I was indeed where I thought myself to be did serve to relax her enough that she spoke, though her voice was quiet enough that I had to lean in to hear. Tracing out the path I’d taken, she demonstrated good knowledge of the lay of the land, pointing out the origins of some of her clanmembers (who I dutifully made mental notes to speak to later). Her claw faltered over the Scarred Wasteland, and again at the Viridian Labyrinth, her gaze turning distant. After that she trailed off into silence again, and though the curiosity ate at me, I respectfully took my leave. Some stories are too painful to share with strangers, after all.
As I turned toward one of the cave entrances that led deeper into the town, I had the odd sense of being watched. When I glanced back at the white tundra she seemed focused on rearranging her necklace of flowers, and I couldn’t see anyone else nearby. Shrugging, I ducked into the nearest entrance, only to have my way blocked by another tundra - though quite different from the first I’d met here.
Brown fur streaked with teal should have made her easy to spot against pink-streaked stone, but somehow she blended into the shadows, her eyes gleaming from under her hood. Her wings were flared in a threatening display, and the sharp flash of her fangs when she spoke backed it up more than her stature did. She asked what I had been doing to Muneca, and that confused me until I realized I hadn’t gotten the name of the white tundra.
My honest confusion seemed to reassure the brown tundra that I meant no harm, and she drew her wings in and introduced herself as Waneta, daughter to Muneca, the white tundra outside. It intrigued me to see her protectiveness of her mother, opposite to the mother-bear behavior I’d seen more often, but given Waneta’s forceful attitude and Muneca’s more timid nature, it was easy to see how a daughter’s love could translate to an urge to shield her mother from those who would hurt her.
I proceeded further into the caves, and soon found myself following the sounds of laughter and play. Turning a corner, I found a room abuzz with hatchlings running and rolling about, watched over by a tundra who looked positively ethereal. Quite appropriate for the Arcane territory, her fur swirled with constellations, dotted with the bright glitter of stars. She quickly noticed me at the door, and after a brief introduction invited me to sit with her as she oversaw the hatchlings at play.
I was happy to rest after my long flight here, and we settled into conversation easily. She spoke with the relaxed grace of one who has experienced much, both through her own life and through watching her children grow. I found her to be an absolute goldmine of stories - she has had many hatchlings of her own, and grandchildren as well, and regaled me with tales of their childhood mischief and how they changed (or didn’t) as they grew.
As the hatchlings began to settle and nap after their playtime, the need for quiet quickly became evident. I took my leave from Theodosia and tiptoed back out into the warren of the caves.
Unfortunately, at that point it must have been nearing dusk, many of the town’s inhabitants settling in for the night much like the hatchlings had. Without anyone awake to share their stories with me there really wasn’t much point in staying longer, but then I ran into a secondary issue - I also wasn’t certain of the way back out, and by the time I realized how lost I had become the halls seemed empty.
About to resign myself to a night spent curled up on the hard stone floor, I caught sight of a furred tail flicking around a corner ahead. Perhaps one of the tundras I had met earlier? I bounded forward and came face to face with a dragon nearly as large as I was - certainly no tundra!
He blinked eyes an unusual shade of green, cocking his head and shuffling long-clawed paws against the ground as if he was considering darting away. His fur was oddly patterned as well, almost as if pale pink mosaic tiles had been laid over his shaggy fur. Despite his size and formidable teeth and claws, the overall effect was of softness and sweetness. When I overcame my initial surprise and sheepishly explained how lost I was, he confirmed that impression, agreeing to lead me back to the entrance without hesitation.
As I bid him farewell and thanked him for his help, I already found myself excited for my next visit. Clearly there were a great many stories to tell here!
I recently ventured to the Starwood Strand to pay a visit to the town of Arcstead. I’ll be honest, I nearly flew right over it despite getting very good directions! Perhaps I was over-dazzled by all of those striking pink rock formations, so different from the rolling sands of my home, but it took the pure white fur of a dragon below to actually catch my attention and bring me circling down into the hollow where the town made its home.
Though I took caution in touching down and called a cheery hello - I realize that an unfamiliar guardian can be a bit of a surprise, especially given how much larger we are than most other species - I believe I startled her badly. She looked up at me with wide red eyes, stark against that snowy whiteness of her fur. I do hate to generalize, but her fright seemed quite at odds with her native element - perhaps partially explaining her presence here in the Strand.
In an effort at nonthreatening normalcy, I slowly drew out my map, unrolling it before her. Asking if I was indeed where I thought myself to be did serve to relax her enough that she spoke, though her voice was quiet enough that I had to lean in to hear. Tracing out the path I’d taken, she demonstrated good knowledge of the lay of the land, pointing out the origins of some of her clanmembers (who I dutifully made mental notes to speak to later). Her claw faltered over the Scarred Wasteland, and again at the Viridian Labyrinth, her gaze turning distant. After that she trailed off into silence again, and though the curiosity ate at me, I respectfully took my leave. Some stories are too painful to share with strangers, after all.
As I turned toward one of the cave entrances that led deeper into the town, I had the odd sense of being watched. When I glanced back at the white tundra she seemed focused on rearranging her necklace of flowers, and I couldn’t see anyone else nearby. Shrugging, I ducked into the nearest entrance, only to have my way blocked by another tundra - though quite different from the first I’d met here.
Brown fur streaked with teal should have made her easy to spot against pink-streaked stone, but somehow she blended into the shadows, her eyes gleaming from under her hood. Her wings were flared in a threatening display, and the sharp flash of her fangs when she spoke backed it up more than her stature did. She asked what I had been doing to Muneca, and that confused me until I realized I hadn’t gotten the name of the white tundra.
My honest confusion seemed to reassure the brown tundra that I meant no harm, and she drew her wings in and introduced herself as Waneta, daughter to Muneca, the white tundra outside. It intrigued me to see her protectiveness of her mother, opposite to the mother-bear behavior I’d seen more often, but given Waneta’s forceful attitude and Muneca’s more timid nature, it was easy to see how a daughter’s love could translate to an urge to shield her mother from those who would hurt her.
I proceeded further into the caves, and soon found myself following the sounds of laughter and play. Turning a corner, I found a room abuzz with hatchlings running and rolling about, watched over by a tundra who looked positively ethereal. Quite appropriate for the Arcane territory, her fur swirled with constellations, dotted with the bright glitter of stars. She quickly noticed me at the door, and after a brief introduction invited me to sit with her as she oversaw the hatchlings at play.
I was happy to rest after my long flight here, and we settled into conversation easily. She spoke with the relaxed grace of one who has experienced much, both through her own life and through watching her children grow. I found her to be an absolute goldmine of stories - she has had many hatchlings of her own, and grandchildren as well, and regaled me with tales of their childhood mischief and how they changed (or didn’t) as they grew.
As the hatchlings began to settle and nap after their playtime, the need for quiet quickly became evident. I took my leave from Theodosia and tiptoed back out into the warren of the caves.
Unfortunately, at that point it must have been nearing dusk, many of the town’s inhabitants settling in for the night much like the hatchlings had. Without anyone awake to share their stories with me there really wasn’t much point in staying longer, but then I ran into a secondary issue - I also wasn’t certain of the way back out, and by the time I realized how lost I had become the halls seemed empty.
About to resign myself to a night spent curled up on the hard stone floor, I caught sight of a furred tail flicking around a corner ahead. Perhaps one of the tundras I had met earlier? I bounded forward and came face to face with a dragon nearly as large as I was - certainly no tundra!
He blinked eyes an unusual shade of green, cocking his head and shuffling long-clawed paws against the ground as if he was considering darting away. His fur was oddly patterned as well, almost as if pale pink mosaic tiles had been laid over his shaggy fur. Despite his size and formidable teeth and claws, the overall effect was of softness and sweetness. When I overcame my initial surprise and sheepishly explained how lost I was, he confirmed that impression, agreeing to lead me back to the entrance without hesitation.
As I bid him farewell and thanked him for his help, I already found myself excited for my next visit. Clearly there were a great many stories to tell here!
@Wildewinged Awww thank you so much! This is so well written and you captured them all so beautifully!
you also happened to pick some of my absolute favorites so there’s that too XD
@Wildewinged Awww thank you so much! This is so well written and you captured them all so beautifully!
you also happened to pick some of my absolute favorites so there’s that too XD
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