Maea
Beware the darkness of dragons,
Beware the stalker of dreams,
Beware the stalker of dreams,
Slightly self-conscious under the scrutiny, the sragon did her best to keep focus on the glassmaking. An amateur at heart, and unaccustomed to doing such delicate work in this shape, she found it unsuitable for intricate work but amusingly satisfying when it came to large sculpting. Planting the blob of molten glass upon a rock, she began squeezing and twisting the matter, applying more heat or allowing it to cool as necessary. What emerged was a pillar that resembled ice, thin and rippling - like a sheet of cloth rippling in wind, or a river frozen in its current. The more it cooled, the better it caught the sunlight; rainbows scattered across the landscape, multifaceted light that broke and changed in hue like glitter against black rock.
When she was satisfied with the shape, the dragon settled back down again. Only droplets of glass remained on her paws now; of those she rolled a few into marbles of varying sizes, clear ones and softly pink ones, and a few that were wrapped around a speck of gold or some other fragment of gemstone unearthed from the geode. Those she extended towards the girl in the scaled palm of a paw; offering a selection like a peace offering, like a token of gratitude for the company shared.
When she was satisfied with the shape, the dragon settled back down again. Only droplets of glass remained on her paws now; of those she rolled a few into marbles of varying sizes, clear ones and softly pink ones, and a few that were wrapped around a speck of gold or some other fragment of gemstone unearthed from the geode. Those she extended towards the girl in the scaled palm of a paw; offering a selection like a peace offering, like a token of gratitude for the company shared.
Beware the talons of power and fire,
Beware one who is not what she seems.
Beware one who is not what she seems.
