Sandabell

Ever since she could remember, Sandabell had been in the dirt. Other dragons, on occasion, speculate that she was hatched not from an egg but from the ground itself.

There is no doubt that Sandabell’s affinity is with the earth. No matter how hard her disgruntled parents tried, they were hard-pressed to keep their eccentric daughter out of the mud. As soon as they would wrestle her away ( and wrestle they did ) and clean her up, she would be bounding right back toward the nearest mud puddle or dust pile. Keeping her away from the ground was a fruitless effort, and it drove Sandabell’s parents mad the harder they tried.

As she grew up, her liking for the earth refined, but only slightly. She would still sit outside in the dirt all day, scales caked with mud, with her wings no better, but this time she would dig up stones and small creatures. She took great pride in her collection of rocks, although it was small due to the limited amount of soil soft enough to dig in. She guarded her treasure fiercely, growing indignant whenever a prudish clanmate or relative would make a snarky remark about her beloved hobby.

As soon as she could manage, Sandabell left her home clan without the slightest regret. She did not belong there among dragons who could not respect her interest. Too many quarrels left her flustered and frustrated, feeling alienated from those she called “family”. For a short time, she lived on her own or in small, wandering groups. She went wherever she could find soft ground with nothing but a small knapsack containing her collection of rocks. Her quest eventually brought her into the Windsinger’s territory, where she later stumbled upon the territory of a rather curious clan. They called themselves Clan Rush, and quickly offered her invitation to join them. Sandabell, to say the least, was a bit thrown at the proposition; her birth clan would never have offered such a warm welcome to an unknown traveler. The most they would have ever done would be to escort her immediately out of their own lands and into some other clan’s. Tentatively, she accepted the clan’s offer, however, and it wasn’t long until she realized she had made what was likely to be the best decision of her life.

At first, she found the clan strange; they were open with each other. They were warm and caring and showed much more affection than her birth clan. Hatchlings were allowed the freedom to express themselves, even through occasionally risky behavior. The adults were as varied as the wind currents they treasured in their backgrounds, personalities, beliefs, and preferences. It took no time at all for Sandabell to settle right in among them, and it took even less time for her to settle right back into her fascination with the soil.

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“What are you doing?” a small voice piped up. Stiffening, Sandabell turned to face her investigator.

“Digging,” she replied simply to the young dragon, much younger than herself.

“What for?” the little dragon asked, scrunching up his muzzle at her. Sandabell stiffened at the inquiry and made no attempt to respond. It didn’t take long for the hatchling to decide he wasn’t going to get an answer, so instead he went for the obvious. “You’re dirty.”

And to Sandabell’s surprise, he hunkered down beside her and tossed some dirt up with his wings, showering both her and himself with dust. “I want to help,” he proclaimed matter-of-factly, craning his neck up to look at her.

Taken aback, Sandabell could only gawk for a moment before nodding and shifting aside to make room for her excavation partner.