Maea
Beware the darkness of dragons,
Beware the stalker of dreams,
Beware the stalker of dreams,
Wading from the molten stream, she flicked lava off her feet like it was water she had stepped in. Paying no heed to the hissing little girl, the pearlescent white of the dragon's eyes was scanning the area, assessing the potentials hidden in geology - adding another area to the growing list of things she wished to study - and with her long tail carried daintily aloft like a highborn lady with a skirt she padded over to a crumble of rock that looked older than the solidified lava.
Placing a heavy paw against it, she began to press down, listening as rocks cracked and groaned beneath her weight. Cracks spiderwebbed across the surface, then with a rumble the rock started to come apart. Rubble tumbled onto the ground in chunks as a cloud of dust rose into the air. What had been hidden beneath layers of feldspar and graystone was layers upon layers of quarz; white quartz and rose hued quartz, some clear as ice while other chunks were laced through with streaks of gold.
Settling down onto her stomach with the lazy ease of a predator at rest, dexterous digits on the front paws - long and elegant and tipped in sharp talons - began sorting through the pile of rubble for the clear bits. Large wings spread wide over the ground, one of them nearly knocking over the girl as it stretched; looking for all the world like a sunbather on the beach, only... you know. Dragon. Black as ink, scales shimmering like an oilspill in the light.
Placing a heavy paw against it, she began to press down, listening as rocks cracked and groaned beneath her weight. Cracks spiderwebbed across the surface, then with a rumble the rock started to come apart. Rubble tumbled onto the ground in chunks as a cloud of dust rose into the air. What had been hidden beneath layers of feldspar and graystone was layers upon layers of quarz; white quartz and rose hued quartz, some clear as ice while other chunks were laced through with streaks of gold.
Settling down onto her stomach with the lazy ease of a predator at rest, dexterous digits on the front paws - long and elegant and tipped in sharp talons - began sorting through the pile of rubble for the clear bits. Large wings spread wide over the ground, one of them nearly knocking over the girl as it stretched; looking for all the world like a sunbather on the beach, only... you know. Dragon. Black as ink, scales shimmering like an oilspill in the light.
Beware the talons of power and fire,
Beware one who is not what she seems.
Beware one who is not what she seems.
