Raffles & Giveaways

@Decaffeinated Finished with the lore! (I would like to rename her Eliza) (also, Ive wrote a lot of dramatic antsy stuff, so i wrote fluff instead!) [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=49167571] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/491676/49167571_350.png[/img] [/url] Elisa was a plain white tundra, with a love for color and paint. She was known for her ridiculous spending habits and her love for puns. But few knew what she really does. Elisa could see the stings, the red strings tied around a dragon’s claw connecting them to their soul mates. As soon as Elisa found out what the red strings were, she spent her life “accidentally” tripping and pushing the soul mates closer together. It normally wasn’t long before there were too many “accidents” for it to be accidents. When this happened, Elisa packed her paints and headed for the nearest city, to restart her match making. In all of this, there was only one thing that hurt her the most… She had no string, no soul mate to spend her last days with. Eliza convinced herself she didn’t care. Eliza opened her canvas and paint, the red strings got in the way of her painting, but she managed. Just as Elisa dipped her paintbrush, she saw a Spiral waling past a Sky dancer. The strings that connected the two tightened as spiral walked past her. Eliza sat up from her paints as she watched them, “they are so oblivious” she chuckled. She turned back to her paints, but a guardian walking past caught her attention. The guardian had no string. Elisa dropped her paintbrush and stared; the guardian noticed and looked at Eliza. Then the guardian looked at Elisa with equal shock. Then it happened. A long flowing red string materialized around Eliza claw, connecting her to the guardian. A grin showed on Eliza’s face. The guardian froze as Eliza bounded up to her. Eliza eagerly held out a claw, “I’m Eliza! Nice to meet you” The guardian hesitated “I’m Anharia,” then she let out a small chuckle and hugged Eliza close. “Your soul mate” It was like seeing color for the first time; Anharia noticed she had small stars in her scales. And Eliza realized she was not plain white, but in fact had large red and orange paint like splotches on her fur. They were truly soul mates.

@decaffeinated sorry about that. I ended up with a migraine and have basically lost the last two days ;-;

@mermaidlorelai Can I hold Nimbus? [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=49148485] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/491485/49148485_350.png[/img] [/url] Nimbus stared at the stars above, captivated by the sight. From the time she cracked her shell she was captivated by the softly glimmering points of light above her. She wanted them as a part of her- she wanted their beauty u der her skin so no longer would she feel dull and lacking. She had travelled far, oh so far, to find her way here, to the highest point of the world, and yet she was still so far away. She lived for the stars. They were pure and made her heart soar. She stretched out one wing, humming softly as the stars reflected back and she sighed softly before leaping, wings outstretched to catch herself as she forced herself even higher, into the darkness of the abyss above. Space went on forever. The stars still glimmered on her hide as she pushed further, higher, then any had travelled before. Her whole body strained, fighting to get even higher, fighting to become one with the dark, star speckled expanse that now surrounded her. The darkness seemed to swallow her and she found herself feeling like she was being torn asunder, her whole self ripped apart and she screamed. The stars screamed. She a screamed and became nothing and everything all at once. She became the space between the stars, the nothingness and total absence of life. The silence and the never ending song of life. She was unmade multiple times, each time as painful as the last as she was torn apart to a molecular level being remade once more. Then there was peace. There was silence. There was the comforting compression as she stretched against her confines. She stretched and felt that which contained her crack. She gasped, taking in her first new breath, pressing her nostrils against that hole as she kept breathing and wiggling and pressing against each and every crackling segment until she tumbled, ungainly, from her shell. She stared, both in wonder, and in horror at finding herself in the form of a hatchling. She gave an angry shriek, clumsy wings flapping about and shining silver, bright in the dim light, bright and reflecting the constellations on her own hide. She gave a startled little squeak, wings flailing, spinning to stare at herself. She carried the stars. The stars were part of her. She remembered the pain of being unravelled, remembered the freedom of floating between the stars- and perhaps it was worth it. She wasn’t certain however if she were worthy for the blessing of the stars- she had memory of being that vain little creature that wanted nothing more then to be painted in stars- and now that the stars moved beneath her skin she wondered if it were actually worth it. Was it worth the agony of being torn apart? Was it worth losing everyone who cared about her to be reborn, alone, with only the shadows and stars as company? Her selfish desire was a folly. She was a folly. Once she was named Nimbus, but now- now she was the embodiment of folly- of chasing unattainable dreams and losing everything that made life worth living. She was Folly, no longer Nimbus, and she would be a warning to all she met that if you desire to possess the stars then you are certain to fail and that failure would destroy everything that you once were

is Bolero's lottery still open?
@Decafenatted

@Decaffeinated Not sure if holds have been reset. If they are, I'd like to hold this guy, please: [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=45321508] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/453216/45321508_350.png[/img] [/url]

@Decaffinated [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=49205513] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/492056/49205513_350.png[/img] [/url] “The color of nature wasn't green. It was red. Blood-red.” K.A. Applegate, The Secret (Animorphs series. I am a hunter. Most dragons know Gladekeeper’s children for kindness and nurturing. They have a happy, congenial attitude about life in the Viridian Labyrinth. Entire lives are spent in the midst of cool green shadows and lovingly cultivating plants. This is how many of the generous Nature dragons spend their entire lives, but I never could. From the very beginning I knew a truth which was too often ignored. Nature has more than one side. We are change. We are balance. The strong thrive by passing their best genes on to offspring. If a trait is undesirable to survival, it eventually vanishes. A creature transforms slowly through the generations into something new. The heartiest claw their way to the top by culling the weak or infirm. There are Mirrors, Nocturnes and Wildclaws born into Gladekeeper’s glens every day, hatching with voracious appetites. Their newborn maws don’t gape in hope of leafy plants or fruit. Like them, nothing green would have satisfied me. Only the Tundras subsist on grazing. The dragons who spurn meat aren’t exempt from Nature’s great cycle. They hunt schools of fish or gobble swarms of insects. Death becomes life and life is served by death. Some might call me morbid, but I’m a realist. I [i]know[/i] the cycle. I feel it in the marrow of my bones. Nature is a part of me just as much as I am a part of it. I chose to embrace who I am rather than hide away from it while pruning trees. From the very beginning I had the stomach to do what many of my fellow hatchlings didn’t. To eat, one must kill. My parents were as good of dragons as any could hope to know, but I had an insatiable appetite. My clutchmates and others in the Clan shied away from the idea of putting even an anole to a bloody end. Not only did I tackle the task with pragmatism, I understood the savage beauty in it. No greater gift can be given than the Reedhopper who ends so that another creature can continue living. I treat that sacrifice as sacred and always give thanks to the prey. My coloring started as a considerable problem. Although the stripes and bars helped me blend with tall grasses to some extent, my scales are as pale as the moon. To be blunt, I stuck out. Survival has made the strongest prey wary and fast. Guardian size doesn’t allow for much stealth, and my early hunts often ended in failure. My parents were quick to pile my plate with the tastiest of plants whenever my stomach grumbled. I ate it to sustain strength, but I never could make myself enjoy it. Like the Wildclaws, I wanted meat. To that end, I learned the art of traps or ambushing prey by doing things driving it into dead end canyons from the air. I took only enough to fill my belly, and never depleted entire herds. Glademother taught me well. Eventually, my Search took me far away from my home den. Long flights and hunts both good and poor filled those months. Eventually, I came to rest at the Spiral Keep. There I not only found an end to my Search, but where I could thrive. My coloration which had so boldly stood out against the lush green was perfect camouflage in the depths. Like a tiger shark, I blended with the rays of sunlight or moon flickering from the surface. The sea animals and fish didn’t notice me from below because of my pale underside. From the side, my stripes made me blend with the water ripples. I found where I truly belonged. Her mate: [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=48998831] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/489989/48998831_350.png[/img] [/url]