Azo | Earth Dragon | Bonded to Topaz | M: Topaz, Galladis, Wren

The pressure was suddenly released, and the dragonborn was shoved back. Topaz was alright, it seemed - Chimborazo was half convinced that if he was squished, than she must be as well. But Topaz looked like she was all in one peice - not squashed or flattened at all. Since Azo's bonded was alright, he felt he ought to scare off the threat once and for all. The tiny dragon didn't really enjoy being mean, but he felt obligated to protect the woman carrying him, and so that's what he resolved to do. Nobody would hurt her, not like this man had.

Although Azo's body was shifted by Topaz's movements, his head stayed eerirly still, eyes boring into Galladis. Neck arching like that of a venemous snake, the brown-green creature made no move for the man despite the obviously wary display. The dragonling was a pacifist by nature; gentle, not vicious.

Leaving.

That's what Topaz told him, and Azo's wings sunk in releif as they turned away. Friend? They were going to see a friend? His scrunched up his face, deep in thought - reaching out across the connection with his human, he could understand flashes of white and gray, of a large animal, an odd tail, stocky body - horse, these flashes were called. He could not seem to put together a decent picture of the animal, but Topaz seemed to think that it was a good thing. Although Azo was perfectly fine with just Topaz, he supposed that a new friend wouldn't be so bad. If Topaz liked Horse, then Chimborazo was sure that it was wonderful.

"Horse," he chirped. "Me and Horse can be friends."

Yes, Azo was sure that they could be friends. Maybe the horse could even offer him some food! The dragonling was rather hungry. Instinctively, he understood the concept of meals - oh, he had seen the grass on the ground! Perhaps it was an edible thing? The rocks looked less inviting. Then a flower caught his eye, and the dragonet bent towards it, tumbling ungracefully out of Topaz's arms.

The thing was small and delicate, with gentle white petals. He reached for it, pulling a little, accidentally uprooting the plant. Azo stared, stunned at the severed plant in his talons.

He had broken it.

Panicking, Azo gently place the little flower on the ground, but it only flopped woefully onto its side. He released a sqwauk of alarm, wings flapping uselessly at his side.

"Topaz," he wailed, "I broke it! I-"

He plopped down before the flower, trying futilely to stand it up back in the dirt. And that's when the dragonet burst into tears, sniffing and hiccuping over the little plant, the edges of his frill a deep, despondent blue tinted color.

Galladis Verael | M | Re'enalla | Everyone, mainly Zeb, Wren, Azo, and Topaz (Orrian and Sana, briefly at the end)

The little dragon between him and Topaz was getting aggressive. Was he protecting her? Earth dragons were known to be protective, not fighters. Yet he supposed it didn't matter. He felt Topaz shove him away, giving her a wounded look. "Not as important as you." Instead of following her, he composed himself, turning his face into a placid mask of leadership.

Wren slid her wing under him, letting him get on her back. "Is it time for the feast?" The feast. The feast? In his emotions, he'd completely forgotten. Wren, can you catch everyone's attention? She turned her head to him. "You know I can do all that and more." Looking back over the crowd, she raised her head and let out a loud roar, for whatever a moon dragon sounded like.

He could feel Harazo flinch from where he sat. They'd likely be discussing his "recklessness" with Wren later, and how he should just give her away. Bad news, human. Wren's mine.

"I would like to announce that the feast will begin soon. It is formal, so it would be better to dress as such." He looked at Zeb upon saying this. Was she dressing up? Not likely. She never cared one way or another. One time, he'd caught her in her old assassin's clothes to Dracon'anvenári.

He smirked. Probably be lucky if she at least cleaned up. Wren instantly moved over to Zeb, giving her own mental smirk to Galladis. "You know you like her, Addis." He rolled his eyes. Well, you're probably not wrong.

He wasn't ready for Wren's next move.

She jumped up excitedly, accidentally making him fly off her back and land hard right next to her. Wren moved over hurriedly, sticking her nose in his face. "Wren is sorry." All he knew was that his back hurt. And maybe his chest. Frowning slightly, he narrowed his eyes and thought. Why would his chest hurt? It didn't feel like it came from the impact.

Shaking his head, he gave a short glare to Wren before standing up and going over to Zeb. The back of his head and neck felt wet. Blood, no doubt. His mind was fuzzy. He was also a bit winded and somewhat dizzy, but he'd manage. "That went well. Now go... do whatever you're going to do for the feast." Ludicrous, for a leader. What was his mind doing?

The fall must have been bad.

Sanasiliare Areauveçh Latitharen | F | Elf Judge | Esse, Aroa (both in the last three), Galladis, Orrian

Having powers of transmutation, you'd think she'd have better things to do than change clothes. Well, you'd be wrong. In fact, she had so little to do that she made her clothes as intricate as possible.

Her clothes transformed into an elegant green dress, matching her eyes to a tea. Interwoven strands of gold made their way all along in a pattern, thickening at the bottom to become lined with a gold and white rose trim at the feet. Another rose pattern, deep red, was between her shoulders, perfectly symmetrical. Her shoes wound up around her legs like vines, white and red roses rimmed in gold seemingly blooming along them. The shoes themselves had a sort of celtic golden pattern where there was room for it.

Her cloak transformed into an elegant crimson shawl; a hawk with wings spread was seemingly drawn on in the same colors as her dress. The hood that matched changed into something not unlike half a greek laurel crown, another red rose dotting the center of the gold wreath as it wound its way around the left half of her face. Her hands bore delicate green gloves, neatly edged in the same gold. The long hair she had somewhat seemed to organize itself, braiding up and around her head. Two pearl hawk earrings settled in each of her ears.

Sana looked down at herself. Well, Sana- Vici- whoever, you've done a good job tonight. Looking around, she remembered why she changed her clothes. It was supposed to be for the feast. But who would she bring with her? No matter what, one always had to have company for something like that.

Surprising myself, maybe I'm royal. Good question- how did she even know all this? No matter. As she said that to herself, she spotted Orrian awkwardly holding the ice egg. Moving over to him gracefully, she cocked her head in thought. "You gonna get dressed for the feast?"

Him getting dressed. Now there was an amusing thought. She decided to erase it from her mind as soon as she thought it.

"As you can see, I already have." Would he call her eye-catching? What would he tell her? Don't know don't care. As if that was true. But she told herself that anyways. "I'm off to find someone to laugh at for the feast." Leaving his presence, she looked around again. No one was really by themselves... well, except for him.

She made a beeline for the halfling with the time dragon, nearly bending over at having to look at the man a whole two feet shorter than her. "Hello. My name is Sanasiliare, one of the judges of the Games. Don't bother with niceties, it's not my cup of tea and frankly, doesn't look like yours."

He was tall for a Fae halfling, she supposed. His near-blond hair went down almost to his shoulders, with green-blue eyes. He was a bit handsome, but looked... soft. And mean.

She held her arm out for a handshake, turning her eyes to the little dragon in his arms. She seemed thoughtful and placid. Oh, how Sana wished she'd bonded. Alkannis is close enough, I suppose.

Zebeythrae (Zeb) Leoriethty | F | Bonded: Cathix | Mentions: Galladis, Wren, Cathix, Everyone else(Ind)

The female was watching the interaction between father and daughter and raised an eyebrow when the daughter pushed him away. I mean one hug isn’t going to change what happened...it rarely does. She thought looking over to her dragon Cathix motioning for them to come over to her but the sound of Wren’s roar captured her attention. Of course she jumped slightly, she always did whenever Galladis had Wren ‘speak’. Even though she had been around for a few years, Zeb couldn’t help the jumping.

Her expression soured when Galladis mentioned that there was a feast from atop Wren bringing his gaze over to her. Was Zeb usually one to dress up in fancy clothing, no and that one time he had caught her was when she was still trying to transition out of the assassin profession she had been a part of. Her arms folded over her chest as she met his gaze with her famous ‘you can’t make me’ look dancing across her features, though it quickly changed when the large dragon seemed to jump and Galladis landed on the ground.

“Galladis!” Her voice squeaking slightly as she moved to rush over to him but he was soon standing and walking over to her.

That went well. Now go... do whatever you're going to do for the feast.

“I was going to go dressed as this, but it would be more important for you to get looked at and I would be failing in my position if I didn’t make sure you made it to the medic’s tent dear leader.” Even though her words were laced with sarcasm, a subtle hint of worry hung onto the end of her sentence and filled her eyes. She reached a hand out gently at first when she moved to stand behind him trying to inspect the back of his head. I am not a medic...why am I doing this? I usually am the one causing the injury...She stopped short of touching his hair and stepped back furrowing her brows in thought.

“I wouldn’t wait to get that checked Galladis. It looks like it could be pretty bad.” It wasn’t that Zeb couldn’t handle the sight of blood, sometimes it would just cause unease in the female that only walking away to think about something else to calm the panic that wanted to rise in her throat. “If you go to the medics right now, I promise to dress up for this feast.”

She offered her arm to the male fae with a teasing wink before heading towards the medic’s tent.

Cathix, don’t let me make that promise again...dressing up is tedious. She thought to her dragon looking over her shoulder before disappearing into the tent. Zeb stepped out a few moments later and caught sight of Cathix motioning to them once more before heading to the main building that they would be staying in. It had been told to her that her outfit for the feast would be chosen ahead of time and was to display her position in society before the competition. Thankfully she didn’t have to go up too many stairs before reaching her assigned room. Zeb paused for a moment with her hand on the heavy wooden door partially debating if she should just go as she was or go back and check on Galladis. Her hand opening the door expressed her decision to see what outfit they had chosen, plus she wanted to at least bathe after tumbling about in the dirt.

Please don’t be a dress...please don’t be a dress...please don’t...why is it a dress?

Her light purple gaze landed on the very revealing dress that was set out on the light grey blankets of the bed. It was of a black material that was close to her own skin tone with varying jewels covering it. It appeared to be a top and a skirt with the bottom of the skirt a dark emerald green to match the decently large stones that defined the low cut of the long sleeved top.

These people are cruel Cathix...Why couldn’t they have chosen pants and a nice top. At least I could have worn my boots but no...She moved over to the bed to pick up what appeared to be a piece of dark emerald green lace. I have to go barefoot with these as my shoes. Why did I take this position? She turned to show the smaller dragon the ‘shoe’ of choice for the night before grabbing everything up in her arms and disappeared into an adjoining room. If I don’t return...go bite Galladis for me.

It was a few moments later and after a few unsavory words, Zeb stepped out from behind the door trying her best to avoid looking at herself in the mirror. The top had sleeves that ran down to her hands and hooked around her middle fingers with small jewels that covered the dark material. Around her chest, there were various emeralds and lighter gems to accentuate the deep opening in the middle. It rested just below her ribcage exposing a small portion of her scar that covered her torso. The skirt began at the point of her hips with the same black coloring and jewels as her top. Though the emeralds were in a dragon formation around the top of the skirt with the head residing in the middle of the skirt. The other jewels didn’t fully cover the entirety of the skirt but instead did arches under the dragon with a line along the dark emerald green hemline. Everything about this dress spoke of someone in power but yet was simple in its design. It hugged her curves in ways that no one had been privileged to see before and part of Zeb was enjoying this display of femininity while the other half was crying in a corner over not wearing her boots.

Zeb slowly looked at herself in one of the mirrors and gasped seeing how the dark fabric made it look as though the jewels had been put into her own skin. “This is too much.” She muttered ready to change out of it but something paused her movements and she lifted the skirt to expose the dark green lace barefoot sandals that looked so simple compared to the rest of the outfit. “Maybe this isn’t that bad of an idea.” It took her a few more minutes to argue with herself about changing before she sat down at the vanity and pulled half her long white hair back into a ponytail. She had noticed some of the pastel colored flowers in one of the pots around her room and she stood up grabbing one of each color. A blue one, a pink one, and a yellow one. She carefully removed most of the stem before braiding the three flowers into the base of her ponytail. A couple of strands fell on either side of her face as she worked watching the tired assassin turn into a more appealing apprentice.

“That should be all of it.” She muttered before standing and looking over at Cathix.

Shall we go make our entrance?

She was soon walking out of her room and down the stairs to the main area that everyone was gathering in. Her eyes caught sight of the tall elven judge and she bowed her head in greeting noticing that she was talking to the fae halfling. For once Zeb was nervous and placed her hands together in front of her as she padded softly to a corner waiting for more of the riders to arrive.

Cathix|NB|Bonded to Zeb|Mentions Zeb, Strom, Galladis, Re’enalla, Sana, Esse, Aroa

Before Cathix could decide what action to take regarding the aggressive storm dragon, she was already caught up in a male elf’s arms. Still, Cathix directed a low rumbling growl in her direction, the sound reminiscent of the far-off boom of thunder.

“Shameful. You are a dragon, you should know better than to attack a weaker creature unprovoked.” Reprimand delivered, Cathix stalked back to Zeb, whose mental calls they had ignored up until that point. As they reached her, Galladis abruptly fell off his dragon’s back, dislodged by her sudden movement. He smelled different than he had before, and it wasn’t just the tang of blood. His previous scent of rain and fire was edged with a subtle sour note. Cathix pondered this new development as they accompanied Zeb and Galladis to another tent that Zeb seemed to associate with healing and wellness. Unfortunately the sour aroma was quickly lost amid the other scents of the tent, and slipped out of Cathix’s mind just as quickly once Zeb called their name. I do not understand this “dressing-up”. I at least am magnificent just as I am, they commented as they followed Zeb away from the tent.

Cathix strode alongside Zeb through winding tunnels of wood and stone, enjoying the stares they attracted from passing humans and elves. Eventually they came to a door, which Zeb stared at for a moment before opening. Cathix could feel trepidation rolling off of her, which only intensified once the door was finally opened. Cathix prowled around the room, searching for the source of their bonded’s caution. They poked their nose under cushions and dressers, even giving an experimental swat at the tassels hanging off the bedsheets. Nothing appeared overtly dangerous. A moment later Zeb’s thoughts provided the answer to the puzzle.

These people are cruel Cathix...Why couldn’t they have chosen pants and a nice top. At least I could have worn my boots but no…

Cathix eyed the stringy piece of fabric Zeb held up for their inspection. It didn’t seem like it could cause her much harm, but there was much Cathix was still learning. Zeb then gathered the rest of the fabric in her arms and made for yet another door, leaving Cathix with a final comment of “If I don’t return...go bite Galladis for me.”. Cathix picked up a few words said in a rather angry tone from behind the door before Zeb reentered, looking substantially shinier and more subdued than she had before. The top piece of fabric was close in shade to Zeb’s own skin, but Cathix’s sharp vision easily noted each stitch and seam. As they gazed at the other, more flowy piece of fabric, Cathix was pleasantly surprised to discern the shape of a dragon among the jewels and embroidery.

I do not understand the nature of this punishment, but I will gladly exact reparations from Galladis if he is responsible, Cathix commented as Zeb gazed at her reflection. Whoever created this needs to understand that the shiniest dragons come in shades of gray anyway, not green, they added. Finally, Zeb stopped messing with her hair and made her way to an open space where people appeared to be gathering, Cathix falling into line at her side. The pair approached a tall elven woman and some kind of mixed breed with a dragonling in his arms. Cathix’s frill stiffened with excitement, and they let out a soft cry of greeting.

“Hail, fellow dragon. I am Cathix, what are you called?”

Ikona | Male | Bonded: Manon | M: Manon

He was perfectly content to stay perched on her arm, watching the others in the tent. It gave him a good vantage point, and he studied the other dragons nearby.

None looked like him, and all of them were bigger in size. But that was okay, as long as he was able to climb her arm. None of them were able to do that perfectly, and it made being smaller an advantage. Not that he wanted to be smaller, but he had no choice.

She made low, unintelligible sounds as she smiled, causing him to blink in confusion at her. Whatever she had said made her happy, however, so he wasn't too worried about it. As long as she was happy, he was happy.

She reached up to touch his feathers, and he let her, even though it felt uncomfortable. His tail feathers partly compressed in discomfort.

She asked him his name, and he knew the answer to her question as soon as she asked; it was something he just knew. He did not know how or why, but he did.

I am Ikona. Though her second name was weird, as he didn't get why someone would need it, he decided to ignore it, as to him it was unimportant. He promptly forgot about it, and turned to face her.

Manon, as she said her name was, looked around at the other creatures, and did more of those weird sounds. He assumed it was their language, though he couldn't understand it, because the other non-dragons responded.

He didn't particularly care, and so he was trying to find a way down her arm when he heard a commotion behind him. He turned his head just in time to see a gray blur fly out of the space they were in, and that was when he learned that the ceiling was more than happy to fall towards him.

Fortunately, he stayed on Manon's arm as she fell forward. Unfortunately, this meant that his head and his wings hit the ground first, taking nearly all his weight. He extended his wings, and that helped take some of the weight so that he was able to lift his head, trying to get whatever was covering it off. He shrieked, panicking when it wouldn't come off. It clung to his eyes, rendering his vision almost completely gone. All he could see was a dark tan color, amd while that was better than pitch darkness, he did not like the ceiling falling on him, confining him, trapping him-

Before he could shriek again, the tent lifted off him, and his feathers pressed together completely. Standing up(and realizing that he had left scratches in Manon's arm), he backed up until he was covered by her arm, wincing at the scratches he left.

He was startled by a dragon's roar, his head jerking towards the sound, and then more of that language that he couldn't understand. He ignored it, focusing more on the fact that there had to be another dragon. There was no possible way it was one of the other small ones who did it- there had to be a bigger dragon out there, one he couldn't see at the moment.

Worried about what had been said, he bit a strand of Manon's hair and pulled on it. What's happening? Are we going somewhere? Are you going to leave? He asked, the tent falling already a distant memory. He did not want to focus on the feeling of being confined or the sensation of darkness; at the moment, he wanted to know what the non-dragon had said.

(I am so sorry for the long wait on this post; I kept feeling as if the post didn't feel like Ikona, so I kept rewriting and rewriting it, and now I finally have something that I sorta like. Again, I'm very very very sorry for the wait.)