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Tell stories and roleplay in the world of Flight Rising.
TOPIC | 1 x 1 with starz (private)
@starz

As the sun finished it’s descent over the hillside a soft indigo soaked into the surroundings. Nothing but a gentle breeze disturbed her. Solitude and silence consumed her and she drank back from it in turn. Through the slowly swaying branches the orange glow of her eyes grew brighter as she focused on the downward slope ahead. Miraev watched as a lone deer wandered up and down the field with its snout to the earth. Solitude is not for everyone, she thought mockingly. A bird called further south prompting the animal to lift its head momentarily, leisurely scanning the landscape, before happily returning to the bountiful meal at its feet.

There were a few options at this point. She could have launched herself into the sky for an aerial attack, snatching her prey from above. She could have slithered and crept along the ground and taken the animal before it had a chance to sense her. Instead a scream burst from the foliage that concealed her as Miraev shot like an arrow aimed for the solitary deer. Her blood red wings lay flat to her back as she sprinted down the valley. Targeted, the herbivore bleated and with no other option attempted to flee. It was a knowingly feeble gesture. The dragon who was a blur of mottled black and red and flashing fangs and talons descended upon her victim, both of them releasing guttural, instinctive noises. One of helpless death and one of the sweet release of a kill.

Solitude is not for the weak

Her slender snout shimmered black with blood in the coming moonlight. Sometimes it was just right to feel that rush. Were there easier ways to eat? Of course, but nothing quite as satisfying. From a satchel tucked under a wing she pulled a knife and began dissecting her meal, separating cuts of meat to save for later. The rusty luminescence of her eyes was practically the only light on the plain, but Miraev wasn’t bothered. She had always been one comfortable with herself and the night.

There wasn’t much to do now but make a camp for the night. The female had been on her own for a while now and could fairly efficiently set herself up comfortably for a day or two. Not that she liked to be settled for too long, but a place to rest one’s head was definitely a comfort she wasn’t about to part with. Hiking back up the slope she began to clear a space and set out a few supplies. A fire was not on the agenda; too likely to arouse attention. There was a difference between hiding out and simply not wanting to be bothered. Miraev had decided long ago the distinction didn’t matter, and the rules to live by were essentially the same. However, as she unrolled a makeshift pillow from her belongings she kept a sharp ear tuned around her. It sounded as if she may have company.
@starz

As the sun finished it’s descent over the hillside a soft indigo soaked into the surroundings. Nothing but a gentle breeze disturbed her. Solitude and silence consumed her and she drank back from it in turn. Through the slowly swaying branches the orange glow of her eyes grew brighter as she focused on the downward slope ahead. Miraev watched as a lone deer wandered up and down the field with its snout to the earth. Solitude is not for everyone, she thought mockingly. A bird called further south prompting the animal to lift its head momentarily, leisurely scanning the landscape, before happily returning to the bountiful meal at its feet.

There were a few options at this point. She could have launched herself into the sky for an aerial attack, snatching her prey from above. She could have slithered and crept along the ground and taken the animal before it had a chance to sense her. Instead a scream burst from the foliage that concealed her as Miraev shot like an arrow aimed for the solitary deer. Her blood red wings lay flat to her back as she sprinted down the valley. Targeted, the herbivore bleated and with no other option attempted to flee. It was a knowingly feeble gesture. The dragon who was a blur of mottled black and red and flashing fangs and talons descended upon her victim, both of them releasing guttural, instinctive noises. One of helpless death and one of the sweet release of a kill.

Solitude is not for the weak

Her slender snout shimmered black with blood in the coming moonlight. Sometimes it was just right to feel that rush. Were there easier ways to eat? Of course, but nothing quite as satisfying. From a satchel tucked under a wing she pulled a knife and began dissecting her meal, separating cuts of meat to save for later. The rusty luminescence of her eyes was practically the only light on the plain, but Miraev wasn’t bothered. She had always been one comfortable with herself and the night.

There wasn’t much to do now but make a camp for the night. The female had been on her own for a while now and could fairly efficiently set herself up comfortably for a day or two. Not that she liked to be settled for too long, but a place to rest one’s head was definitely a comfort she wasn’t about to part with. Hiking back up the slope she began to clear a space and set out a few supplies. A fire was not on the agenda; too likely to arouse attention. There was a difference between hiding out and simply not wanting to be bothered. Miraev had decided long ago the distinction didn’t matter, and the rules to live by were essentially the same. However, as she unrolled a makeshift pillow from her belongings she kept a sharp ear tuned around her. It sounded as if she may have company.
@LyssaVyrus

Xue dragged her claws across the gravel and smooth stones, the rough planes of the pebbles digging into the pads on her feet. She winced, shaking the dirt off her claws and continued through the copse of trees. The pale moonlight shone throughout the trees, illuminating the ground and her skin in the silver finery of the night.

Her scales, an imitation of blood itself, was a splotch of gaudy crimson in the dark forest. Hasty wraps, functioning as bandages, covered her sides with splotches of rusted red. Xue limped around a bush, the thorns digging into her flesh and drawing blood. It dripped down her sides, and left splatters on the dirt. Damn harpies, Xue growled under her breath. One of the bandages on her leg unraveled slowly, the flesh underneath swollen and inflamed, criss-crossed with bloody slashes.

Her name meant "Blood." Ironic enough. Her parents had named her this, but not only for the colours of her scales. From a young age, she displayed the ferocity and violence of a warrior, brutality reigning supreme. She killed her younger sister, the blood of her kin splattered on her claws. There is no room for the weak, she had said. Her parents drove her out, deeming her a danger and a menace. She was left to die in the Plague region, kicked from the clan in Nature. But she had survived. She studied Plague magic, diseases, curses, anything to make the Plaguemother proud. And she had. The Plaguebringer herself had blessed her with the ability to enstow plagues and diseases upon others. Plaguebringer had given her the power she desired most. She was on of the Plaguebringer's own acolights. But the Plaguebringer favoured her above most others, for she was a Nature dragon dedicated to Plague. Xue's once viridian eyes were now replaced with the blood red of Plague.

Her ears swivelled underneath her cloak. Someone was near, but she couldn't tell where they were. She panted, her chest shaking in short spasms. Xue could easily hold her own against some of the toughest Beastclans, but the harpies had ganged up on her. It was a nine-to-one fight. She shook her head, fighting off waves of crimson and darker spots that flitted in her vision. Xue pushed her way gently through a pile of dead logs, sending a flurry of beetles and moths into the air. She saw movement up ahead, someone laying out something.

She winced, stopping to fix one of the bandages. Her claw skimmed across a wound, causing her to gasp in pain. She gritted her teeth. She couldn't stay here, wouldn't go down like this. She was one of the Plaguebringer's entourage. She pulled herself slightly farther, and then her legs gave out. Xue saw them turn to look at her, and then everything went blank.
@LyssaVyrus

Xue dragged her claws across the gravel and smooth stones, the rough planes of the pebbles digging into the pads on her feet. She winced, shaking the dirt off her claws and continued through the copse of trees. The pale moonlight shone throughout the trees, illuminating the ground and her skin in the silver finery of the night.

Her scales, an imitation of blood itself, was a splotch of gaudy crimson in the dark forest. Hasty wraps, functioning as bandages, covered her sides with splotches of rusted red. Xue limped around a bush, the thorns digging into her flesh and drawing blood. It dripped down her sides, and left splatters on the dirt. Damn harpies, Xue growled under her breath. One of the bandages on her leg unraveled slowly, the flesh underneath swollen and inflamed, criss-crossed with bloody slashes.

Her name meant "Blood." Ironic enough. Her parents had named her this, but not only for the colours of her scales. From a young age, she displayed the ferocity and violence of a warrior, brutality reigning supreme. She killed her younger sister, the blood of her kin splattered on her claws. There is no room for the weak, she had said. Her parents drove her out, deeming her a danger and a menace. She was left to die in the Plague region, kicked from the clan in Nature. But she had survived. She studied Plague magic, diseases, curses, anything to make the Plaguemother proud. And she had. The Plaguebringer herself had blessed her with the ability to enstow plagues and diseases upon others. Plaguebringer had given her the power she desired most. She was on of the Plaguebringer's own acolights. But the Plaguebringer favoured her above most others, for she was a Nature dragon dedicated to Plague. Xue's once viridian eyes were now replaced with the blood red of Plague.

Her ears swivelled underneath her cloak. Someone was near, but she couldn't tell where they were. She panted, her chest shaking in short spasms. Xue could easily hold her own against some of the toughest Beastclans, but the harpies had ganged up on her. It was a nine-to-one fight. She shook her head, fighting off waves of crimson and darker spots that flitted in her vision. Xue pushed her way gently through a pile of dead logs, sending a flurry of beetles and moths into the air. She saw movement up ahead, someone laying out something.

She winced, stopping to fix one of the bandages. Her claw skimmed across a wound, causing her to gasp in pain. She gritted her teeth. She couldn't stay here, wouldn't go down like this. She was one of the Plaguebringer's entourage. She pulled herself slightly farther, and then her legs gave out. Xue saw them turn to look at her, and then everything went blank.
image.png flightless bird, jealous, weeping
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@starz

A sharp gasp caught her senses, but before she saw the one who emitted it she could already tell she was not in danger. At least not immediately. This was a desperate sound from an animal that was fighting just to move forward. As Miraev turned the other dragon collapsed and lost consciousness, and she immediately began taking inventory of the creature’s situation. Blood, bandages, everything was travel and battle-worn. Her injuries looked like claw or talon slashes, she had definitely fought hard against whatever came upon her.

For a long while Miraev sat stock still, contemplating and listening. She couldn’t hear anything else. Now it was just the labored breath of her impromptu guest and the constant slow whistle of the breeze. At least that meant whatever had been after the imperial wasn’t still in the area. Although that was no guarantee they wouldn’t be headed that way soon. So much for solitude she thought numbly. As if by rote the wildclaw whipped up a small hearth in the clearing she had prepared. With a small sputter and a throaty click there burst a flame from her mouth that danced and caught on the bundle before her. Smoke drifted from her nostrils and twirled around her face as she cut off the spark.

As a loyal servant to Flamecaller the flicker of her creation gave her warmth in a way beyond the physical heat of the fire. Of course that was always inside of her, but the sight was more than welcome. Part of her knew that lighting it was risky; if the newcomer was still being pursued she had just lit a signal fire for anyone on the lookout. The friendless wildclaw was never one to run from a fight though, and she wanted to have a better chance to examine the other female. Most of her head was obscured by her cloak, but her coloring was similar to Miraev’s own. In some places it was actually difficult to distinguish what was blood and what was scaled flesh.

Moving closer, her large back talons scraped the ground. She was almost dwarfed by the motionless female, even lying on the ground as she was. Looking closer at the still gaping wounds she decided most of them looked as though they had come from above. Unless there were some unusually large animals in the area, Miraev suspected harpies. Sighing, she folded her wings and sat nearer to the unconscious one, folding her delicate hands on her legs, and simply waited. If she had been a different type of dragon she may have been inclined to help her. To re-bandage the wounds, to cover and shelter her, to attempt to wake her. But this one just sat and stared, head tilted slightly in a curious gesture. When the other awoke, maybe they would have something to talk about. Or maybe she would be forced to end the animal’s suffering. It wouldn’t necessarily bother her either way.
@starz

A sharp gasp caught her senses, but before she saw the one who emitted it she could already tell she was not in danger. At least not immediately. This was a desperate sound from an animal that was fighting just to move forward. As Miraev turned the other dragon collapsed and lost consciousness, and she immediately began taking inventory of the creature’s situation. Blood, bandages, everything was travel and battle-worn. Her injuries looked like claw or talon slashes, she had definitely fought hard against whatever came upon her.

For a long while Miraev sat stock still, contemplating and listening. She couldn’t hear anything else. Now it was just the labored breath of her impromptu guest and the constant slow whistle of the breeze. At least that meant whatever had been after the imperial wasn’t still in the area. Although that was no guarantee they wouldn’t be headed that way soon. So much for solitude she thought numbly. As if by rote the wildclaw whipped up a small hearth in the clearing she had prepared. With a small sputter and a throaty click there burst a flame from her mouth that danced and caught on the bundle before her. Smoke drifted from her nostrils and twirled around her face as she cut off the spark.

As a loyal servant to Flamecaller the flicker of her creation gave her warmth in a way beyond the physical heat of the fire. Of course that was always inside of her, but the sight was more than welcome. Part of her knew that lighting it was risky; if the newcomer was still being pursued she had just lit a signal fire for anyone on the lookout. The friendless wildclaw was never one to run from a fight though, and she wanted to have a better chance to examine the other female. Most of her head was obscured by her cloak, but her coloring was similar to Miraev’s own. In some places it was actually difficult to distinguish what was blood and what was scaled flesh.

Moving closer, her large back talons scraped the ground. She was almost dwarfed by the motionless female, even lying on the ground as she was. Looking closer at the still gaping wounds she decided most of them looked as though they had come from above. Unless there were some unusually large animals in the area, Miraev suspected harpies. Sighing, she folded her wings and sat nearer to the unconscious one, folding her delicate hands on her legs, and simply waited. If she had been a different type of dragon she may have been inclined to help her. To re-bandage the wounds, to cover and shelter her, to attempt to wake her. But this one just sat and stared, head tilted slightly in a curious gesture. When the other awoke, maybe they would have something to talk about. Or maybe she would be forced to end the animal’s suffering. It wouldn’t necessarily bother her either way.
@LyssaVyrus

Xue's dreams shifted between panes of black, and white, and kaleidoscopic colours. The shades swirled together, turning and turning. Roiling masses of clouds, and something. She wasn't exactly sure what was happening to her. Everything that was happening was a blur of reality.

The sun shone brightly against Xue's eyelids, illuminating the sky in shades of red. She opened her eyelids with a grunt, the world around her coming into focus. The bright daylight shone through the trees. She tried to sit up, and instantly regretted it. Her face paled, and waves of nausea crashed through her stomach. She fell down with a thud. She rolled over slowly, and saw her.

Fiery orange eyes stood out against her skin, bar markings beautifully looping across the planes of her sides. Xue felt the heat rise in her face, and quickly looked at the ground. The small Wildclaw was watching her with a slightly intense look in her eyes, which were like the hottest blazes of a bonfire. Her spines were the same imitation. And her wings, spread gently to give her balance, were shades of red with blotched markings across them.

Xue couldn't remember why she was here. How did she end up here, in this forest, near a pretty Wildclaw, passed out in the dirt? She vaguely remembered the harpies, but not completely. She let out a sigh, her chest shaking in a spasm. She gently shifted her claws in the dirt, noticing the rust-coloured stains on her paws.

She wasn't always who she was, a Plague acolight. She once was an innocent young hatchling, dedicated to playing with her sister and brother. But something inside her had changed, when another, a nameless warrior, had stormed her past clan. They had killed their leaders and their guards. The waves of blood and carnage had stained the small Nature clan permanently, and Xue had been in the centre of it all. She had seen it, but it hadn't seemed foreign to her. She had embraced it.

She looked again at the Wildclaw. "What's your name? How did I get here?"
@LyssaVyrus

Xue's dreams shifted between panes of black, and white, and kaleidoscopic colours. The shades swirled together, turning and turning. Roiling masses of clouds, and something. She wasn't exactly sure what was happening to her. Everything that was happening was a blur of reality.

The sun shone brightly against Xue's eyelids, illuminating the sky in shades of red. She opened her eyelids with a grunt, the world around her coming into focus. The bright daylight shone through the trees. She tried to sit up, and instantly regretted it. Her face paled, and waves of nausea crashed through her stomach. She fell down with a thud. She rolled over slowly, and saw her.

Fiery orange eyes stood out against her skin, bar markings beautifully looping across the planes of her sides. Xue felt the heat rise in her face, and quickly looked at the ground. The small Wildclaw was watching her with a slightly intense look in her eyes, which were like the hottest blazes of a bonfire. Her spines were the same imitation. And her wings, spread gently to give her balance, were shades of red with blotched markings across them.

Xue couldn't remember why she was here. How did she end up here, in this forest, near a pretty Wildclaw, passed out in the dirt? She vaguely remembered the harpies, but not completely. She let out a sigh, her chest shaking in a spasm. She gently shifted her claws in the dirt, noticing the rust-coloured stains on her paws.

She wasn't always who she was, a Plague acolight. She once was an innocent young hatchling, dedicated to playing with her sister and brother. But something inside her had changed, when another, a nameless warrior, had stormed her past clan. They had killed their leaders and their guards. The waves of blood and carnage had stained the small Nature clan permanently, and Xue had been in the centre of it all. She had seen it, but it hadn't seemed foreign to her. She had embraced it.

She looked again at the Wildclaw. "What's your name? How did I get here?"
image.png flightless bird, jealous, weeping
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@starz

Spending the remainder of the night studying her unconscious unwelcome guest, Miraev began to have more questions than answers. Sure, she was a loner, but what was this dragon doing out here alone? There was also something... off. About her sense, her feel and being. Something was different about this female. The sight of her exposed flesh beneath her scales sent a shiver down her spine, causing her mane to shake and stand upright. Currently she did not look particularly attractive, but where she would normally leave the animal to it's own devices she was intrigued and drawn to this one.

As the sun rose the injured dragon awoke, clearly in a great amount of pain. However she did a fair job at hiding it, something that struck Miraev as honorable. She had seen far too many weak dragons during her lifetime and it sickened her. That was one of the numerous reasons she'd been alone for so long. It had become clear long ago that her own skills and senses were the only assets she could depend on. No one was worthy of trust, and if you made the mistake of putting your trust in someone who seemed able to keep it, at best you would be faced with disappointment. At worst she had been lucky to get out alive.

The imperial's voice cut into her, wings ruffling in slight annoyance. Miraev hadn't spoken to anyone else in quite a while and pleasantries were generally despised on her part. She couldn't help but snort at the normality of it. "You came upon my camp last night. I was worried you'd be bringing along whatever chased you out here. It's difficult to sleep when there may be enemies around." Her tone wasn't chiding as much as a bit sarcastic and put out. She wasn't as annoyed as she was making it sound, but there was no need to coddle the intruder just because she was obviously disoriented.

"Miraev." It was short, sharp and simple. She stood and began tending the dying fire. Turning her back to the other she began rifling through her pack for something. "Would you like some tea?" Returning pleasantry with pleasantry she didn't wait for an express answer and placed a kettle over the now growing flames. She could offer tea as a social courtesy, but would not offer help for her wounds unless the other asked.
@starz

Spending the remainder of the night studying her unconscious unwelcome guest, Miraev began to have more questions than answers. Sure, she was a loner, but what was this dragon doing out here alone? There was also something... off. About her sense, her feel and being. Something was different about this female. The sight of her exposed flesh beneath her scales sent a shiver down her spine, causing her mane to shake and stand upright. Currently she did not look particularly attractive, but where she would normally leave the animal to it's own devices she was intrigued and drawn to this one.

As the sun rose the injured dragon awoke, clearly in a great amount of pain. However she did a fair job at hiding it, something that struck Miraev as honorable. She had seen far too many weak dragons during her lifetime and it sickened her. That was one of the numerous reasons she'd been alone for so long. It had become clear long ago that her own skills and senses were the only assets she could depend on. No one was worthy of trust, and if you made the mistake of putting your trust in someone who seemed able to keep it, at best you would be faced with disappointment. At worst she had been lucky to get out alive.

The imperial's voice cut into her, wings ruffling in slight annoyance. Miraev hadn't spoken to anyone else in quite a while and pleasantries were generally despised on her part. She couldn't help but snort at the normality of it. "You came upon my camp last night. I was worried you'd be bringing along whatever chased you out here. It's difficult to sleep when there may be enemies around." Her tone wasn't chiding as much as a bit sarcastic and put out. She wasn't as annoyed as she was making it sound, but there was no need to coddle the intruder just because she was obviously disoriented.

"Miraev." It was short, sharp and simple. She stood and began tending the dying fire. Turning her back to the other she began rifling through her pack for something. "Would you like some tea?" Returning pleasantry with pleasantry she didn't wait for an express answer and placed a kettle over the now growing flames. She could offer tea as a social courtesy, but would not offer help for her wounds unless the other asked.
@LyssaVyrus

"I'm sorry," Xue said, slowly pulling up her lanky form from the ground. Her wounds had left rusted stains on the dirt. She kicked some gravel over them to mask it. She limped over to Miraev's campsite, her slow pace accompanied by the scuffling across the soil. She sat down gently near her campfire, a grunt of pain escaping her lips as she put pressure on her wounds. She nodded at Miraev's offer. Tea would help, but not completely.

She yawned gently, and sighed. She felt like an idiot. The harpies would track her, at any rate. She was in no condition to run. And, she doubted her host wanted her bringing a flock of harpies upon them. "Miraev?" She asked, turning to her host. "There is a good probability that the harpies are tracking me; when they attacked me I killed a few of their kin. I don't want to put you in danger. I can leave whenever it's most convenient for you." Xue said quietly.

She didn't want to talk after having said that. She fiddled with a bandage on her leg, and noticed something underneath. She unwrapped it slowly. The skin underneath was swollen and pinkish-red, and the scars from the harpies were coated in pus and dried blood. The scales were stretched tight to accommodate the swelling from the wound. "Dammit." Xue cursed under her breath, unwrapping another bandage to check. This one was mostly dried blood and shredded skin, with some swollen flesh. She growled angrily. She had to leave, but she was in no condition to travel. She thought, torn between two decisions.

Xue turned to Miraev, accepting the tea she offered. The steam wafted through the morning air, smelling of mint and jasmine. She took a sip, and swished the beverage around in her mouth. It warmed her from the inside out, and she shivered with pleasure. She set the cup down, and looked at Miraev, her decision made. "Do you have anything that can treat wounds?"
@LyssaVyrus

"I'm sorry," Xue said, slowly pulling up her lanky form from the ground. Her wounds had left rusted stains on the dirt. She kicked some gravel over them to mask it. She limped over to Miraev's campsite, her slow pace accompanied by the scuffling across the soil. She sat down gently near her campfire, a grunt of pain escaping her lips as she put pressure on her wounds. She nodded at Miraev's offer. Tea would help, but not completely.

She yawned gently, and sighed. She felt like an idiot. The harpies would track her, at any rate. She was in no condition to run. And, she doubted her host wanted her bringing a flock of harpies upon them. "Miraev?" She asked, turning to her host. "There is a good probability that the harpies are tracking me; when they attacked me I killed a few of their kin. I don't want to put you in danger. I can leave whenever it's most convenient for you." Xue said quietly.

She didn't want to talk after having said that. She fiddled with a bandage on her leg, and noticed something underneath. She unwrapped it slowly. The skin underneath was swollen and pinkish-red, and the scars from the harpies were coated in pus and dried blood. The scales were stretched tight to accommodate the swelling from the wound. "Dammit." Xue cursed under her breath, unwrapping another bandage to check. This one was mostly dried blood and shredded skin, with some swollen flesh. She growled angrily. She had to leave, but she was in no condition to travel. She thought, torn between two decisions.

Xue turned to Miraev, accepting the tea she offered. The steam wafted through the morning air, smelling of mint and jasmine. She took a sip, and swished the beverage around in her mouth. It warmed her from the inside out, and she shivered with pleasure. She set the cup down, and looked at Miraev, her decision made. "Do you have anything that can treat wounds?"
image.png flightless bird, jealous, weeping
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(ooc: sorry for the delay, busy weekend!)

@starz

Apologies weren't necessary, and the Wildclaw barely nodded as a response. Sure this intrusion was one she was less than thrilled about, but it's not as though the injured dragon purposefully burdened her. She worked nimbly to remove the boiling kettle from the flames and labored to prepare the tea. As she did so the Imperial shuffled over, careful of her wounds. Miraev pretended not to notice her pain, as a courtesy.

She snorted loudly. "Ha! You think you're going anywhere in your condition? If anything I'll be leaving you behind. As far as the danger, well..." Miraev paused for a long while at that. What was she doing? Was she actually considering sticking around for this mess of a female? But still there was something that struck her as odd and intriguing about this one. If she had killed a few of the harpies she definitely wasn't a weakling. Maybe it would be worth the risk to actually have someone around who could keep her guessing, keep her on her toes. "...I've been through worse than harpies, I'll wager." A small smirk creased her face, as an indication that she would not be leaving, without coming right out and saying it in a way that would embarrass the other.

Shuffling through her pack, which still contained a fair few things despite her spread already on the ground, Miraev pulled out a small glass jar with a greasy green salve pasted to the inside. It didn't look good, and she knew it definitely didn't smell good, but it had been worth what she'd traded for it and more. Not that she was in the habit of needing to treat infection, but a fair few times she'd benefited from having it around. Hopefully there was enough left to be of use to her interloper. With a swift flick she tossed it on the ground before the other without indicating it further. Turning back to her tea and taking a first, long sip, she cherished the heat that mirrored her burning flame inside. Her dark amber eyes gleamed with the delight of it. Ruffling her wings a bit she turned back with head slightly tilted. "And what should I call you besides thorn-in-my-side?" She could be kind without leaving her sarcasm behind, right?
(ooc: sorry for the delay, busy weekend!)

@starz

Apologies weren't necessary, and the Wildclaw barely nodded as a response. Sure this intrusion was one she was less than thrilled about, but it's not as though the injured dragon purposefully burdened her. She worked nimbly to remove the boiling kettle from the flames and labored to prepare the tea. As she did so the Imperial shuffled over, careful of her wounds. Miraev pretended not to notice her pain, as a courtesy.

She snorted loudly. "Ha! You think you're going anywhere in your condition? If anything I'll be leaving you behind. As far as the danger, well..." Miraev paused for a long while at that. What was she doing? Was she actually considering sticking around for this mess of a female? But still there was something that struck her as odd and intriguing about this one. If she had killed a few of the harpies she definitely wasn't a weakling. Maybe it would be worth the risk to actually have someone around who could keep her guessing, keep her on her toes. "...I've been through worse than harpies, I'll wager." A small smirk creased her face, as an indication that she would not be leaving, without coming right out and saying it in a way that would embarrass the other.

Shuffling through her pack, which still contained a fair few things despite her spread already on the ground, Miraev pulled out a small glass jar with a greasy green salve pasted to the inside. It didn't look good, and she knew it definitely didn't smell good, but it had been worth what she'd traded for it and more. Not that she was in the habit of needing to treat infection, but a fair few times she'd benefited from having it around. Hopefully there was enough left to be of use to her interloper. With a swift flick she tossed it on the ground before the other without indicating it further. Turning back to her tea and taking a first, long sip, she cherished the heat that mirrored her burning flame inside. Her dark amber eyes gleamed with the delight of it. Ruffling her wings a bit she turned back with head slightly tilted. "And what should I call you besides thorn-in-my-side?" She could be kind without leaving her sarcasm behind, right?
@LyssaVyrus

Xue muttered her thanks, grabbing the small jar that contained, well, she had no idea what it was. She carefully unscrewed the lid, the pungent odour wafting out from the glass container. Xue gagged, wrinkling her nose at the disgusting pale green paste in the jar. She dipped two claw gingerly into it. The paste made her claws tingle, a minty cooling spreading throughout her paws. Xue gently set the jar down, and began to unwrap the rust-stained bandages covering her scales.

Soon the rough fabric was pooled at her feet. She gently picked up the jar, scooping out some of the pale green salve. She put a small dab on the wound, wincing. The salve stung like all heck, and it tinged the gashes green. She paled, the pain spreading until it was just a dull ache. She spread it across the rest of the wounds on her body, and then gingerly wrapped them again.

She turned to Miraev, hearing her question. "Xue. My name's Xue." She paused, tying the last bandage. "It means blood, ironically enough." She snorted, looking at Miraev. "And about worse than harpies, well..." Xue paused. Could she really tell her what had happen with the Wyrmwound, why she was a cast out, a freak? She sighed, then steeled her gut. She could trust Miraev, right? Xue grabbed the edges of her hood, and looked straight at Miraev. "I have been through much in my life..." She slid off the hood slowly, exposing a cascade of crimson hair that cascaded around her, covering her eyes and draping along one side of her neck. She looked at the ground, then looked again at Miraev, brushing the bangs off of her eyes.

Two blood-red eyes stared at Miraev, and then two more pairs opened to look at her.
@LyssaVyrus

Xue muttered her thanks, grabbing the small jar that contained, well, she had no idea what it was. She carefully unscrewed the lid, the pungent odour wafting out from the glass container. Xue gagged, wrinkling her nose at the disgusting pale green paste in the jar. She dipped two claw gingerly into it. The paste made her claws tingle, a minty cooling spreading throughout her paws. Xue gently set the jar down, and began to unwrap the rust-stained bandages covering her scales.

Soon the rough fabric was pooled at her feet. She gently picked up the jar, scooping out some of the pale green salve. She put a small dab on the wound, wincing. The salve stung like all heck, and it tinged the gashes green. She paled, the pain spreading until it was just a dull ache. She spread it across the rest of the wounds on her body, and then gingerly wrapped them again.

She turned to Miraev, hearing her question. "Xue. My name's Xue." She paused, tying the last bandage. "It means blood, ironically enough." She snorted, looking at Miraev. "And about worse than harpies, well..." Xue paused. Could she really tell her what had happen with the Wyrmwound, why she was a cast out, a freak? She sighed, then steeled her gut. She could trust Miraev, right? Xue grabbed the edges of her hood, and looked straight at Miraev. "I have been through much in my life..." She slid off the hood slowly, exposing a cascade of crimson hair that cascaded around her, covering her eyes and draping along one side of her neck. She looked at the ground, then looked again at Miraev, brushing the bangs off of her eyes.

Two blood-red eyes stared at Miraev, and then two more pairs opened to look at her.
image.png flightless bird, jealous, weeping
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@starz

As the other was treating her wounds Miraev looked away and busied herself re-packing her things. She wasn't going anywhere right yet but just in case something came up it would be handy to have everything in one place. The spines on her back stood rigid as she unconsciously remembered all the times she'd needed to make a quick getaway. More than she'd care to articulate. Most would probably assume she was alone because she was running, rather it was more the other way around. She really had no choice in being alone, and so she ran. Always.

"Hmph" she mumbled in response to the name and it's meaning. It had never much interested her to know of naming traditions or meanings, she supposed she was just not that sentimental. Maybe that deer she ripped apart earlier had been sentimental; it hadn't done it much good in the end. Her mouth began watering thinking about the meat, and she drew a few slabs from her pack and placed them over the fire. In the back of her mind she heard Xue continue speaking but she hadn't been listening closely.

As the meat began to sputter and sizzle from the heat, a vague feeling drew her to look again at the other dragon. Instantly there was a spark of... something. Fear? Recognition? Allure? It was foreign and familiar at once, terrifying and reassuring. It was definitely odd looking but somehow the four eyes didn't shock her in the way Xue probably assumed. "Well that's different." Miraev wasn't sure what else to say. It seemed as though the imperial was looking for an opportunity to explain, and she paused to give her that option though she did not probe. In the mean time the wildclaw poked at the fire and nodded, indicating Xue was welcome to the meat as well.

Well, she thought with a small inward chuckle, I was right, she's not boring.
@starz

As the other was treating her wounds Miraev looked away and busied herself re-packing her things. She wasn't going anywhere right yet but just in case something came up it would be handy to have everything in one place. The spines on her back stood rigid as she unconsciously remembered all the times she'd needed to make a quick getaway. More than she'd care to articulate. Most would probably assume she was alone because she was running, rather it was more the other way around. She really had no choice in being alone, and so she ran. Always.

"Hmph" she mumbled in response to the name and it's meaning. It had never much interested her to know of naming traditions or meanings, she supposed she was just not that sentimental. Maybe that deer she ripped apart earlier had been sentimental; it hadn't done it much good in the end. Her mouth began watering thinking about the meat, and she drew a few slabs from her pack and placed them over the fire. In the back of her mind she heard Xue continue speaking but she hadn't been listening closely.

As the meat began to sputter and sizzle from the heat, a vague feeling drew her to look again at the other dragon. Instantly there was a spark of... something. Fear? Recognition? Allure? It was foreign and familiar at once, terrifying and reassuring. It was definitely odd looking but somehow the four eyes didn't shock her in the way Xue probably assumed. "Well that's different." Miraev wasn't sure what else to say. It seemed as though the imperial was looking for an opportunity to explain, and she paused to give her that option though she did not probe. In the mean time the wildclaw poked at the fire and nodded, indicating Xue was welcome to the meat as well.

Well, she thought with a small inward chuckle, I was right, she's not boring.
@LyssaVyrus

Xue snorted at Miraev's expression. "Yeah, I know. I'm more than a little different." She sniffed the air gently, the sizzle of the meat scenting the air and whispering across her tongue. Her mouth watered, but she refused to show her hunger. But the smell was too overpowering, and Xue moved over to the fire. She gently picked a slice of the meat off the spit, and bit into it. The tastes exploded across her tongue. Wonder what kind of meat, she thought.

She turned to Miraev, tilting her head slowly to look at her. "What brings you here? Do you have a clan?" Xue wasn't sure what to expect. Being without a clan might not necessarily be bad, of course. Miraev surely looked like she could hold her own. But being on your own isn't always great either.

For the longest time, Xue had been on her own in the Plague domain. She wasn't necessarily lonely, of course, but she yearned for something in her life. She was missing something, something that couldn't easily be filled. She had never found what she had yearned for, but when she met Miraev, well, she felt something stir inside of her. She wasn't exactly sure what she had felt, but, she didn't regret or dislike it, either...
@LyssaVyrus

Xue snorted at Miraev's expression. "Yeah, I know. I'm more than a little different." She sniffed the air gently, the sizzle of the meat scenting the air and whispering across her tongue. Her mouth watered, but she refused to show her hunger. But the smell was too overpowering, and Xue moved over to the fire. She gently picked a slice of the meat off the spit, and bit into it. The tastes exploded across her tongue. Wonder what kind of meat, she thought.

She turned to Miraev, tilting her head slowly to look at her. "What brings you here? Do you have a clan?" Xue wasn't sure what to expect. Being without a clan might not necessarily be bad, of course. Miraev surely looked like she could hold her own. But being on your own isn't always great either.

For the longest time, Xue had been on her own in the Plague domain. She wasn't necessarily lonely, of course, but she yearned for something in her life. She was missing something, something that couldn't easily be filled. She had never found what she had yearned for, but when she met Miraev, well, she felt something stir inside of her. She wasn't exactly sure what she had felt, but, she didn't regret or dislike it, either...
image.png flightless bird, jealous, weeping
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