Flight name: Ice
Number of dragon: 9
Name of dragon: Lungile
Lore: Breathe in. Breathe out.
Smoke drifts from her mouth as she walks. When they found her in the burning woods, she was coughing and wheezing out smoke. She's far removed from the flames that should've killed her, but the smoke remains, leaving a brief physical mark of her presence. Heat and flames still scare her, make her curl up at the mouth of the cave where blizzards try to make their way in. Smoke, though, has ceased to bother her.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
She reminds herself of this even as she watches her fellow Banescales (no relation beyond a common creator) start turning the alcove near the back of the lair into a smokehouse, a way to preserve and enhance the meats the clan collects. There's a lot of meat-eaters living together in one cave, and she could eat meat if she really wanted. She prefers insects, of course. Makes a point to remove their exoskeleton before eating. The crunch bothers her.
Breathe in.
They light the kindling.
She turns and walks as calmly as she can, holding her breath. Her tongue tastes ash.
Here, she reminds herself, she has a place. A place where she can stay safe and it doesn't matter that her lungs are forever filled with smoke and it takes just a spark to relive her time before here. She will not be robbed of this place through something as basic as carelessness. Even if the others fail, she will not allow it.
She stops in her tracks as the Pearlcatcher - the Pearlcatcher-shaped THING - crosses her path, communicating with the fire acolyte in a tongue only they understand. She can see the lava moving sluggishly beneath his aufeis exterior.
Breathe out.
Yes. She will not allow it.
(Opt.) Outfit design: Banescale RIP
@Valefarious
Number of dragon: 9
Name of dragon: Lungile
Lore: Breathe in. Breathe out.
Smoke drifts from her mouth as she walks. When they found her in the burning woods, she was coughing and wheezing out smoke. She's far removed from the flames that should've killed her, but the smoke remains, leaving a brief physical mark of her presence. Heat and flames still scare her, make her curl up at the mouth of the cave where blizzards try to make their way in. Smoke, though, has ceased to bother her.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
She reminds herself of this even as she watches her fellow Banescales (no relation beyond a common creator) start turning the alcove near the back of the lair into a smokehouse, a way to preserve and enhance the meats the clan collects. There's a lot of meat-eaters living together in one cave, and she could eat meat if she really wanted. She prefers insects, of course. Makes a point to remove their exoskeleton before eating. The crunch bothers her.
Breathe in.
They light the kindling.
She turns and walks as calmly as she can, holding her breath. Her tongue tastes ash.
Here, she reminds herself, she has a place. A place where she can stay safe and it doesn't matter that her lungs are forever filled with smoke and it takes just a spark to relive her time before here. She will not be robbed of this place through something as basic as carelessness. Even if the others fail, she will not allow it.
She stops in her tracks as the Pearlcatcher - the Pearlcatcher-shaped THING - crosses her path, communicating with the fire acolyte in a tongue only they understand. She can see the lava moving sluggishly beneath his aufeis exterior.
Breathe out.
Yes. She will not allow it.
(Opt.) Outfit design: Banescale RIP
@Valefarious
