Maea
Beware the darkness of dragons,
Beware the stalker of dreams,
Beware the stalker of dreams,
A bit of a tight squeeze though it was, the dragon angled itself down towards the foot of the shrine. Rocks broke loose and crashed into the forest below as she tested the ground, not yet fully trusting it to hold her weight. Being big was awkward; her tail kept smacking into trees so that fruits and leaves shuddered to the ground, and her claws left scrape marks on the pale rock. But slowly, tenderly, inch by inch she fitted herself against the patch of land until she stood firmly on solid ground.
Gingerly folding one membraneous wing against ink-black scales, then the other, a sinuous neck snaked around her own bulk to look for the source of the screeching. She was certain it wasn't imagination. The rest of the forest had grown quiet at her passing, but not this one voice... Intrigued, slitted nostrils flared as the dragon attempted to catch a scent, or any clue as to who else was there with her. When nothing immediately stood out, she reluctantly shifted, shrinking down into the familiar shape of the ancient; dressed in black, with a restless tail coiling behind her, and her long hair tied up around the crescent horns, wrapped into a bun around a simple hair stick. Somehow it didn't feel as fun to explore in this form... though she had to admit it made it easier to approach the shrine.
Gingerly folding one membraneous wing against ink-black scales, then the other, a sinuous neck snaked around her own bulk to look for the source of the screeching. She was certain it wasn't imagination. The rest of the forest had grown quiet at her passing, but not this one voice... Intrigued, slitted nostrils flared as the dragon attempted to catch a scent, or any clue as to who else was there with her. When nothing immediately stood out, she reluctantly shifted, shrinking down into the familiar shape of the ancient; dressed in black, with a restless tail coiling behind her, and her long hair tied up around the crescent horns, wrapped into a bun around a simple hair stick. Somehow it didn't feel as fun to explore in this form... though she had to admit it made it easier to approach the shrine.
Beware the talons of power and fire,
Beware one who is not what she seems.
Beware one who is not what she seems.
