Who am i?

life's a journey. join my friends and i as we travel our world in search of other dragons like me in search of where I belong.

[strangeonethedragon]

Who I Am #34

“So, what happens now?” Glow Claw asks. White Throat and Mimo are back at their camp. Fire Wing sulks a few lengths away since it was made clear nobody was interested in her idea to return to the clan.

Mimo considers the question. He has never been so free to choose what to do or where to go. And his best friends are willing to follow him wherever he chooses to lead them, regardless of danger, abandoning their clan loyalties, choosing him – him – over all they have been familiar with, over all they have known to be real and true and right. The bigness of the world and his infinite choices threaten to overwhelm his thoughts. Suppose he fails them? Suppose he leads them to their deaths?

“Trouble is inevitable, flightless dragon,” Awze's words return unbidden to Mimo's mind. “No matter where you go from here, pain waits."

Pain waits. To go back to the clan will bring punishment, possibly banishment, maybe a death sentence. To go forward into the unknown will bring – what?

Pain waits.

Mimo looks at White Throat and Dark Claw, both already badly injured, but also looking stronger and healthier than even a day ago. What pain could stop them? White Throat has had the worst of it, and he is still willing to go forward. Mimo need only lead him. Such trust and confidence in him bolsters Mimo's faith in himself. Pain may be waiting, but it will find him and his companions to be formidable foes.

“We go forward,” Mimo answers finally.

[vanilla-jackson]

i found this in my drafts for a comic but I never finished the comic so I thought it was fine to just put it up alone

ever heard Always Gold by Radical Face? that’s the inspiration for the comic. this poor guy is of the crooked kind in the mind of his community but to his friends and me he’s gold

[strangeonethedragon]

Ahhhhh!!!! look at baby Strange One! He’s miserable but still adorable :)

[strangeonethedragon]

Who I Am #33

Strange One sits alone at the thin edge of the woodland.

“No,” White Throat silently corrects himself, “his name is Mimo.”

“What do you want?” Mimo asks without turning his way. He sounds tired, resigned, like he gets when Hook Fang or some other cold-hearted bully has hurt him and he doesn't want to show his pain.

White Throat shuffles up to his side. His movements are stiff, and each step reminds him of the damage done to his body, but his kind adapt to pain, wearing it proudly as a mantle, using it to make them stronger. Since the stripe cat hadn't killed him, he will recover from the attack familiar with the kind of pain she'd inflicted, and he will not be crippled by it again.

“Wherever you want to go, Mimo, I'll go with you,” White Throat declares, the new name feels strange on his lips, but regardless of moniker, this is his friend. They had grown up together and looked out for each other all their lives. Today's revelations, White Throat has decided, will not change that.

Mimo shakes his head. “You're scared of me, of what I am. The clan taught all the dragonlings to fear my kind. I don't belong with them. You don't belong with me. You have your clan. I have nobody.” He chokes slightly on the last word, his heart feeling as empty as the open grassland before him.

“It was a lie,” White Throat says again, but this time he really believes his words. “I don't know why they tell the ghost stories about Hyshryk. It would make as much sense to tell the nestlings that demon fluff hoppers would get them at night” – Mimo snorts at the ridiculous thought – “but you're no monster. You never have been. You've looked out for the young ones even when we were little. I can't imagine the species that produced you could be any amount of monsters.”

Mimo looks at White Throat finally. “Do you really believe that?” he asks.

White Throat nods decisively. “You're my friend, and you are all that is good. I can't believe that something as instinctively good as you are could come from a clan of creatures that is as inherently evil as the Hyshryk have been described.”

Tears well in Mimo's eyes. Of all things he ever needed, White Throat just gave him the validation he'd never known. “Thank you, White Throat,” he mumbles, bumping his horns against his friend's. “I really needed that.”

[improbablepatchwork]

Who I Am #32

Awze’s dream is not her own.  She has seen this dream countless times, and each repetition is more twisted and distorted than the last.  Distance is supposed to separate her from the dreams of her kind, so she had not taken the time to construct her mental buffer as she would have were she closer to her home.  Her gift is her curse, and the most gifted of the Dream Seekers guild cannot escape the nightmares of the most tortured of the tribe.  He is haunted by the last images he saw before the fire took his sight, and these images replay constantly before his sightless eyes, robbing him of restful sleep and mocking his efforts to save them night after night.  His heart yearns for the ones he lost so fiercely that certain sensitive souls nearby will weep in sorrow without knowing why.  The dream follows the familiar pattern Awze knows so well, but some images are becoming more difficult to identify.  Individuals she used to recognize are blurred.  The night has become so dark, it’s more like a cave than the night sky lit by the hot fires she remembers from previous versions.  But Souvra, shaded blue as all her healer guild are, is clear, diving toward the great pillar of stone rising from the lava flow and the tiny frightened ball of fluff cowering before the hulking black mass leering down at it as they are both crouched precariously at the peak of the monolith.  “My BABY!” Souvra shrieks, hurtling recklessly down to the inferno surrounding the stone pillar.   Awze feels the dreamer’s gut-wrenching anguish.  “Souvra, NO!” he shouts.  He knows what will come of this.  Time slows as it is prone to do in such dreams.  The lava below becomes more vividly red and angry.  The great black hulk on the rock rises to meet Souvra, fearless against the mother’s instinct to protect her young.  It acts like a predator springing a trap.  Though it feels as though there are rocks in his gut, the dreamer cannot dive quickly enough.  The black hulk swallows Souvra’s blue, and she is cast into the angry, fiery river below.   Grief and fury fill the dreamer and Awze with him.  It is too much for her.  Drawing on her training, she separates herself from the grip of the dream.  It is not hers, after all.  The flood of pain and anguish is more than her heart can bear; it is more than any heart should have to take.  She reaches out to the dreamer with soothing thoughts and the one truth she hopes will ease his grief:  “I’ve found him.  He is alive, and I’m bringing him to you.” The dream fades, leaving remnants of grief that is Awze’s own.  She doesn’t know if her message broke through the dreamer’s web of pain.  She’d separated just before the black hulk becomes the flame that takes his sight.  The excruciating agony is a sensation she has experienced before and doesn’t care to feel again if she can avoid it.  Carefully constructing the mental buffer she had been taught to build when she needs her own rest, she slips into the dark oblivion of her own dreamless sleep.

[cinnab3an]

Dark Claw and Glow Claw make a successful hunt! Strange One and White Throat watch their friends with smiles on their faces. Unfortunately, thanks to @itsdragonstar, those smiles will soon be wiped away. Danger is watching. Danger will soon attack… (part two is being made!!!)

[vanilla-jackson]

Dragon portrait! Look at that grin :0

[strangeonethedragon]

It's your boy White Throat! Visual aid for anyone wondering what he looks like ❤

[strangeonethedragon]

Who I Am #31

Glow Claw can’t comprehend what has just transpired. As he watches Strange One stalk away, Fire Wing crouching just outside their nest dominates his vision.

“What’s the matter with you?” Glow Claw demands of her. “We were all fine until you showed up.”

“Oh, were you really?” Fire Wing snaps back. “Dark Claw looks like he’s been nearly gutted, you have White Throat here in ribbons, and you’re ‘fine?’”

“At least Strange One was still our friend,” Glow Claw retorts. “Look at him, now! You’ve made him one of those- those” – he still can’t bring himself to say the word – “monsters!”

“I came to help,” Fire Wing argues. “The Elders don’t want Strange One or any of you back, but I think Hook Fang will come for White Throat. I came to warn you so you could plan a return and an explanation for the Elders that doesn’t sound like you all abandoned the clan.”

“Wait. What?” Glow Claw asks.

“What are you talking about?” asks White Throat.

Fire Wing settles herself to explain. “You all disappeared,” she says. “The Elders think Strange One finally left of his own accord, and since you guys are so close with him, they think you abandoned the clan to go with him to your deaths.” White Throat snorts in disgust. Fire Wing continues, “They don’t care what happens to Strange One. You two,” she says, looking at each of the twins, “make them uncomfortable, so they don’t care about losing you, either, but you,” her gaze shifts to White Throat, “Hook Fang wants you back, and you know Hook Fang gets what he wants even if it goes against the Elders’ orders.”

Jaws drop as Fire Wing’s statements sink in.

“But Strange One has worked so hard,” Glow Claw starts.

“They don’t care about us?” Dark Claw asks.

“What do you mean ‘even if it goes against the Elders’ orders?’” White Throat demands to know.

Fire Wing doesn’t like being questioned. She shakes her head irritably. “No, no! See, all we have to do is tell the Elders you went together on an extended hunting trip – you know, like what some bands will do sometimes. If we can find something exotic to bring back, it will support this claim. Everyone comes home, and everything goes back to the way it was!”

“You say that like it’s a good thing,” White Throat grunts, lurching stiffly to his feet. “Didn’t you just hear yourself? Dark Claw, Glow Claw, and Strange One aren’t wanted. Hook Fang may want me back, but you say that’s against the Elders’ orders, too?” He half laughs, half coughs. “For once, I’m happy to oblige them.” He limps awkwardly from the nest, but each step he takes is stronger, more confident.

Glow Claw stumbles quickly after White Throat, brushing clumsily past Fire Wing. “White Throat, wait!” he cries desperately. “What will we do?”

“I’m going to talk to Strange One,” White Throat replies over his shoulder. “We’ll think of something.”

Fire Wing watches White Throat go, her mouth agape with shock. This has not gone the way she’d expected. What has she done?

[strangeonethedragon]

Who I Am #30

“So what happened?” Dark Claw asks. “We saw Star Fall-“

“That creature is a Hyshryk!” Fire Wing interrupts in a harsh whisper.

Dark Claw and Glow Claw flinch and try to snuggle even closer to each other. White Throat shudders but tries to maintain an air of assurance as he shakes his head.

“Nonsense.” he coughs past the lump of fear threatening to quaver his voice. “They’re myth.”

“That one’s real enough!” Fire Wing argues, tossing her head in Awze’s direction.

“What’s a Hyshryk?” Strange One asks. How could he have grown up with the clan without ever having heard the word, especially considering the effect it has on his friends?

“Stop saying it!” Glow Claw whimpers. “You’ll call them!”

“They steal nestlings in the night,” Dark Claw explains.

“Just the ones that wander,” adds Fire Wing.

“They snatch you up, use magic to keep you silent, then carry you off to the volcano wh-where they e-eat you wh-while you’re s-s-still alive,” Glow Claw stutters through his fearful trembling.

“They’re all black, so you never see them coming,” Fire Wing continues, “except for their red eyes, which you don’t see until they have you.”

“And speaking of them summons them, so can we please stop?” Glow Claw begs.

“They’re myth!” White Throat asserts, though he doesn’t sound entirely convinced himself. “Hook Fang told me. He said as part of the process to accept me as a warrior, the Elders would hold a private meeting with me during which they will explain to me how this story is maintained to keep nestlings from wandering at night. It isn’t real! Hook Fang told me this, because I’m supposed to say how, of course, I stopped believing the story a long time ago. Warriors are not supposed to be superstitious. We believe what we see because we know it’s real.”

“That’s fascinating,” Strange One interjects, “but why have I never heard this before?”

“Because nobody cared if you lived or died,” Fire Wing answers quickly. “Oh- Strange One! I’m so sorry!” she adds, realizing too late the cruelty of her words.

Strange One’s gut wrenches, and a lump forms in his throat so quickly, he doesn’t know if he will choke or vomit. The cold ambivalence he’d felt his whole life from the adults had been plain. It was only the youngsters – White Throat as his best friend, the twins, which are oddities in their own right, and a few others such as Fire Wing, who find his differences diverting – who have ever made life in the clan bearable, who have ever made him feel welcome. No one has ever said outright what Fire Wing just vocalized, but Strange One has always known it to be true. Yet, that knowledge does not make it any easier to hear.

“We care!” the twins chorus quickly.

“I don’t know what I would have done growing up without you,” White Throat adds. “Hook Fang would have driven me out of my mind.”

“Would he?” Strange One asks bitterly. “You’ve defended me against him all our lives. I’ve done nothing but make your life more difficult.”

“I’m the son of our clan leader,” White Throat points out. “I was born for a difficult life. You’ve made it bearable.”

“Strange One, if not for you, the twins would not both be alive,” Fire Wing argues. “You know what’s supposed to happen when twins hatch.”

“They battle for the right to life. One must die so the other may live,” Glow Claw mumbles. “Otherwise, it’s too much work for the parents to provide enough food to feed both.”

“Strange One, you did the extra hunting so we could both live,” Dark Claw recalls. “Besides, I could never kill Glow Claw. We both would have starved.” The brothers affectionately bump horns.

“So you four – out of our whole clan – appreciate my presence,” Strange One snorts. “Or three,” he adds with a sidelong glance at Fire Wing. The sting of her words will hurt for a while.

Fire Wing ducks her head. “I’m so sorry, Strange One,” she reiterates. “Really, I am.”

Strange One snorts and shakes his head. “So, back to the Hyshryk,” he says, changing the subject.

“They’re still myth,” White Throat responds immediately as the twins each try to duck beneath each other’s heads.

“They’re real!” Fire Wing argues. “You must have seen it!”

“Yes,” Strange One agrees. “I saw her change.” He looks over his shoulder at Awze resting under the laurel. She hasn’t moved since dropping there upon their arrival. Her sides rise and fall regularly with deep, even breaths, and her colors appear to have regained some of their original intensity. In all but the feathered frill around her neck and the feathers covering her tail, she resembles himself more than any other creature he’d met before. He is so accustomed to being different, the outcast, the strange one, it has become his very name.

But Awze calls him by a different name. She calls him by a name he hasn’t heard in so long, he doesn’t even remember it being his. Yet, the sound of it dredges memories he’d long forgotten – a large, blue-hued smiling face nuzzling him and only him while his nest mates vie for the attention of another big body close by. The memory sparks warmth and love but also longing and sadness. She’s gone.

Hook Fang’s face replaces hers – dark, brooding, always disapproving, never caring about Strange One’s wants or needs. Such was the attitude of the other adults in the clan. Why had they bothered to let him stay at all? Especially if he is one of these creatures they teach their young ones to fear?

He shakes his head irritably to clear the images and the swirl of emotions they evoke. Turning back to face Fire Wing, he states, “If she is this dreaded Hyshryk,” – the twins shudder again – “then so am I.”

Among the shocked faces, Glow Claw is the first to speak. “B-b-but you can’t be; you’re no monster!”

“Am I not?” Strange One asks, cloaking his body in the same flat, lifeless, light-swallowing black Awze became when she battled Star Fall. On reflex, his dragon friends shrink back, appalled at his transformation. Glow Claw whimpers, hiding his face in Dark Claw’s shoulder. White Throat makes no further attempt to mask his fear.

This is his answer. As the Strange One, he is their quirky, special friend. As one of his own kind, he is all they fear.

“Strange One,” White Throat gasps, unable to verbalize his confusion, “you’re our friend!”

“My name,” Strange One growls, rising abruptly from the tight huddle in the nest, “is Mimo.”

[strangeonethedragon]

Who I Am #29

Naked shock shows in the wide eyes and slack jaws of Dark Claw and Glow Claw when they see Strange One, White Throat, and Awze stumbling back into their camp with Fire Wing trailing behind. Glow Claw stutters, “Wh-wh-wh-whaaaat-“ “Happened?!?” Dark Claw finishes incredulously for his twin. Awze's colors are faded, looking washed out and drab. Blood still oozes from wounds largely hidden by long fur and feathers, though visible gaps in her plumage expose further evidence of her tussle. Her head hangs in exhaustion, and she collapses in a heap beneath a sparsely leafed laurel. Strange One, who had been helping White Throat navigate the dense undergrowth, leans toward her, hesitant to leave his friend's side, but driven to assist his clan fellow. Awze sweeps her tail around herself and flicks the tip dismissively at Strange One. “Tend to your friend, Mimo,” she says. “I will be well.” Covering her face with the plumed end of her tail, she sighs, “I just need rest.” All the dragons are visibly shaken. Fire Wing circles wide around Awze, eyeing the resting stranger warily on her move to join her clanmates. She'd witnessed Awze's transformation that sent Star Fall fleeing for his life, and the memories the image conjures – the stories she'd been told as a nestling – shake her to her marrow. White Throat is on the verge of collapse. He leans heavily on Strange One, trembling with cold, weariness, and no small measure of fear, but his training would not allow him to admit that. He sinks slowly into the hollow Strange One had adopted as a nest with Dark Claw and Glow Claw the night before. Strange One signals to the twins to bring the fresh yarrow they had collected, and together they apply the healing herb to White Throat's freshly washed and bleeding wounds. Strange One is relieved to see the wounds look better than they had before. The washing Awze put him through, difficult as it had been to endure, had no doubt been beneficial. With White Throat's wounds cleaned and treated, Strange One nestles snugly against him. Fire Wing and the twins join in the tight nest, lending their communal body heat to warm White Throat. Fire Wing crouches just outside the nest where her head could also be near the others'. In the close quarters, a few wingspans away from Awze, they talk in low tones among themselves.

[strangeonethedragon]

Who I Am #28

Stripe cat scent is heavy in the air. Star Fall’s mind finally clears enough to acknowledge what he has stumbled into. Not one, but two large orange, black, and white faces stare back at him in surprise. They are young - not so young as to still need their mother’s guidance – bachelor brothers who had just brought down a small bush deer. A single small deer is not enough to satiate two nearly adult male stripe cats, but add an adult dragon to the menu, and they both could relax with full bellies for a couple of days.

The stripe cats leap quickly. Star Fall meets the first with teeth and claws. He still needs a clearing adequate to spread his wings to take flight. The grass is too long to clear in a launching leap.

Claws and fangs meet fur and scales. Star Fall is an experienced fighter. He knows the stripe cats can easily kill him, but if he handles himself well, he just might survive this day.

He slips to the side of the first cat as it rushes him and ducks his head under its attack, dodging its powerful jaws and allowing the beast’s claws to rake across the tough scales covering the upper part of his neck. He keeps his wings folded tightly against his body. He can’t afford damage to them if he expects to fly again. The second cat is on him the next instant, wrapping him in a deadly embrace of claws and teeth. They tumble together against tussocks of grass, flattening a few while others redirect their struggle.

These stripe cats know little of killing dragons. The cat’s bite is short of the base where Star Fall’s head and neck meet, where a killing bite could sever his nerves and end his struggle. Star Fall tosses his head back, battering the stripe cat with his horns. The beast releases its jaws but does not relinquish its grip on Star Fall’s body.

The first cat returns, jaws open to rip open Star Fall’s exposed neck. Star Fall’s claws are hampered by the grip on his shoulders of the cat on his back, but he is quick with his teeth. He snaps at the first cat’s nose. Gripping its muzzle in his teeth, he shakes his head, worrying the heavy stripe cat’s head as it yowls in pain and anger.

The second cat releases its grip to shift for a better angle to Star Fall’s neck. Star Fall rolls beneath it, slashing with all four sets of claws. The beast falls back. Quickly, Star Fall regains his feet. The battle has flattened enough grass, he can spread his wings. He leaps, wings wide for the first powerful downstroke that will carry him away from death’s claws. As his wings descend, one of the stripe cats leaps behind him, catching a foot in its teeth and claws, dragging him back to earth, back to the ready claws and teeth of the brother, which is ready for the dragon’s soft underside.

Star Fall sees the shadows in the grass below him gathering together as he is dragged down. The menacing whisper, They’re coming! echoes once more in his mind.

He falls into the waiting claws of the stripe cats. Jaws clamp onto his neck. Another set of teeth catches the arm bones of his wing. He feels the piercing pain, the pressure, and he hears the crunch as the bones shatter in the stripe cat’s jaws. The beast holding his neck closes its jaws further. Star Fall chokes on his own blood filling his windpipe, but he cannot cough through the cat’s death grip.

His struggles are done. He is finished. Shadows swallow the sunlight in his eyes.

They’re here.

Star Fall’s final defiant growl is muted by fanged death.

[strangeonethedragon]

Who I Am #27

Star Fall halts his flight at the river, his head clearing of the panicked fog. What had frightened him? He hasn’t been that scared since…

He shakes his head to clear the memory. Such things are for nestlings to keep them from wandering at night. Adults know the stories aren’t real.

Then how did it suddenly become real again?

That creature is to blame. Its colors changed like the Strange One’s often do. The cowardly beast used a trick that stopped him killing it. Tricks are for the weak.

The day is growing hot again. Star Fall quenches his thirst in the river and briefly considers fishing out a snack, but he doesn’t much care for fish. He prefers meat from land beasts.

He must return to White Throat’s group – if White Throat is even still alive. He’ll track them down if they have moved on, destroy the Strange One and his fellow, and bring his kind back to the clan to which they belong. He is just turning from the river when something hard sharply strikes his cheek. A bubbling, mocking chortle follows, shooting heat into Star Fall’s blood. Whirling around back to the river, Star Fall searches for the source. All he sees is the water, flowing and splashing over the rocks and boulders making up the boofles’ ford. He sees no other creature at the river in the hot midday sun. His low growl ends with a grunt, and he turns again to leave the river bank when another sharp sting strikes his shoulder quickly followed by one at his neck. More mocking laughter sounds over the river’s flow. Star Fall’s head whips about again, and he catches a glimpse of a reptilian tail disappearing behind a boulder.

With an angry roar, Star Fall splashes through the water to the boulder, ready to end whatever creature has dared to mock him. He is Star Fall. He is feared and respected, and no creature makes sport of him. A barrage of tiny stinging stones meets his charge. Ignoring them, he leaps to the top of the boulder, jaws wide to snap up the creature behind it. They close on a small, wriggling lizard unlucky enough to fall back as quickly as its companions. Star Fall holds the creature in his jaws, glaring down his snout at a half dozen small river lizards now cowering in the water below him.

This suits him better. Fear. He controls others with fear, not the other way around. To press his point, he clenches his jaws tightly on the wriggling body in his mouth, relishing the tiny squeal that is cut short as the body goes limp. He flips the morsel in his mouth and swallows it, glaring menacingly at the others.

They don’t move. They should be terrified. Why aren’t they scattering in panic for their very lives? One by one, as they absorb the shock of Star Fall’s callous display, their faces harden, eyes narrowing. Star Fall realizes suddenly that the ford is full of the lizards, all silently staring at him, but, he senses, not in fear or without purpose.

Star Fall snorts. Their purpose is meaningless. He is Star Fall, and he has a mission to complete. He spreads his wings to take to the sky and pauses a moment to confirm his impressive wingspan has solidly cowed the river lizards. He does not expect their reaction.

The lizards, as one, mob him suddenly, frills flared and hissing in fury. Star Fall is taken aback by their rush. Though they are small, there are so many and they are so agilely avoiding his jaws, he cannot effectively swat them away. They weigh down his wings, keeping him grounded. Their teeth are too tiny to pierce his thick scales, so they attack his softer underbelly and swarm about his eyes.

Star Fall throws himself into the water, but there is no relief there, since it is too shallow to cover him, and the lizards thrive in the element. Shaking loose as many as he can, snapping and swatting uselessly, Star Fall flees for the shore. On the dry, dusty ground, the lizards abruptly halt their attack, retreating to their watery home where they gather, piled together on the nearest boulder, hissing angrily at Star Fall.

Anxious to put this place behind him, Star Fall once again turns to go, but a fresh new fear halts him. The shadows cast on the ground by the river lizards gathered on the boulder coalesce into something much more menacing and more recently real. The frightening stories and nightmares he had known as a nestling return in a rush along with the hissed warning, They’re coming!

The terror returns, driving Star Fall clumsily up the bank away from the hissing, away from the mocking, and away from the menacing shadow that inexplicably resurrects long forgotten fears. Long grass fouls his wings, so he cannot take flight. He blunders blindly through the grass, wanting nothing more than enough space to spread his wings and take to the sky. A musty, earthy scent teases his nose, but its meaning doesn’t break through the fear clouding his mind. He must get away, get home, back to the safety of his nest and the presence of his clan.

He collides head-on into the face of a big stripe cat.

[strangeonethedragon]

Who I Am #26

The stream water is cold.  Strange One’s fur fluffs against the chill as he supports White Throat in the current. White Throat’s scales pucker, as well, but Awze appears utterly unaffected.  But she isn’t submerged to her shoulders, Strange One thinks, his teeth beginning to chatter.

Awze’s expression is unreadable as she washes White Throat’s scarcely-healed wounds.  From time to time, her brow creases, but she says nothing.  White Throat’s dark red blood turns bright as it mixes with the cold stream water and washes downstream. Strange One worries about the amount of blood his friend is losing.  He has heard of dragons bleeding to death.  Surely Awze would not let that happen, would she?  What do they know of her, after all?  Only that she is one of his own kind.  What would she care of an injured member of another dragon species?  Why are they trusting her?  Well, what other options do they have, really?

Awze’s brow furrows again, and she squints, peering closer at a particularly deep and painful laceration on White Throat’s neck.  “What’s this?” she wonders.  To White Throat, she says, “Try to relax.  There’s something in this wound that I don’t think belongs to you.”  To Strange One, she adds, “You should hold him still.”

White Throat is hardly braced before Awze’s claws are deep in the wound.  Instinctively, he thrashes, trying to escape the fresh wave of pain, kicking out with claws and bared teeth.  Awze dodges deftly without removing her claws from the wound.  She flashes her vivid gold eyes, darkened somewhat with anxiety, to Strange One and shouts, “Hold him, or he will be further damaged!”

Strange One embraces his friend tightly, trying not to hear White Throat’s angry growls and painful whimpers, restraining his shoulders and head so Awze can complete her work, which is done rather quickly.  All three are soaked with cold stream water when Awze triumphantly raises the sickle shaped foreign object for them to see.

“She shed a claw in you!” Awze states in amazement.

There is no time to wonder further, as out of the sky, an orange and red burst of fury collides full into Awze with an angry battle roar.

Awze tumbles back into the stream with a startled squawk.  The attack is completely unexpected, and she has no idea what has hit her.  Strange One recognizes the fiery-scaled assailant immediately, however, and, releasing White Throat, rushes to Awze’s aid to pull Fire Wing away.

“Fire Wing, stop!” Strange One shouts over Fire Wing’s battle snarls. “She’s here to help us!”  Fire Wing is small enough for Strange One to pull off Awze.  He dunks her in the stream, shocking her and breaking her focus.  Surfacing, she looks at Strange One as if noticing him for the first time.

“Strange One!” she gasps, “but White Throat…” she falters.

“Awze is helping us,” Strange One repeats, but he gets nothing more out when a deeper, louder, mightier battle roar rattles them all to their cores, and a massive mottled blue meteor barrels into Awze.  She is thrown clear of the stream into the shrubbery on the bank.

Star Fall leaps, pressing his attack.  Awze feints back, struggling to get her bearings.  She has not fought, not even sparred, for a long time, and this beast attacking her is far more massive than any she has faced on her own.  A tentative probe tells her he is blind with rage and a singular goal to tear her throat out!  That graphically bloody thought strikes her so forcefully, she actually halts her retreat, unable to process such a thought.  Her pause proves folly, though, as Star Fall lunges, jaws wide, and sinks his teeth into her neck!  But no.  His teeth close onto nothing but feathers, and Awze is able to draw away again with a patch of plumage missing from beneath her jaws.  She counters with claws aiming for her attacker’s eyes.  A beast that cannot see cannot attack.  Her claws glance off the horns and heavy ridges around his eyes, but she makes him flinch ever so slightly, and Awze is able to slip out of his reach again.

I'm not built for this, Awze thinks.  He’ll kill me if I can’t turn him away.

Strange One can only watch in shock as Star Fall, a much respected and feared member of the tribe he calls family, ruthlessly pursues the only other member of his species he has ever met.  When Star Fall’s jaws close on Awze’s throat, he is certain it’s over for her.  It’s miraculous when she flails away, losing nothing more than feathers.  Her colors are fading, though.  What does that mean?  He remembers his dream.  Fear.  Pale grey is the color of fear.  Star Fall wants to kill her.  He can kill her, and he will, and she knows it.  Strange One’s heart stops, then, as Star Fall once more knocks Awze to the ground.  He pins her this time.  It’s over now.  Star Fall will tear her throat out, and she’ll be dead.  And there’s no telling what consequences he and his friends will face afterward.  Strange One doesn’t want to watch the killing, but just before he turns his eyes away, he notices something.  Star Fall hesitates, shaking his head.  Awze’s colors are gone, but she is not pale grey; she is nearly black.  And her eyes… her eyes are red!

Star Fall doesn’t understand what is happening.  He was filled with rage just a moment ago, driven to protect a wounded member of his clan.  He would kill the foreign creature and the Strange One who obviously was helping it, then take his kind back home where they belong.  But now he is overcome with uncertainty – a feeling he is not familiar with – and… Fear.  Dread.  They’re coming!  Confusion leading to panic clear on his face, he looks down at the creature he’d been battling.  It looks different now, darker, terrifying even.  It glares menacingly at him.

”They’re coming!” it hisses.

Overwhelmed with terror, Star Fall leaps for the sky, beating his wings for altitude and speed as if that is his sole purpose in life.  And it is, if he wishes to live.

Wide-eyed and slack-jawed, Strange One slowly, hesitantly approaches Awze.  His dragon fellow slowly rises to her feet looking dazed and exhausted.

“H-how?  Wh-what?” Strange One stutters, unsure of what exactly it is he is trying to ask.

“His mind,” Awze shutters, “is not a pleasant place.”  She wearily pulls herself to her feet and starts back toward their temporary camp.  “Come, now,” she says in a low, tired voice.  “I need rest.”

[strangeonethedragon]

Who I Am #25

In spite of his misgivings, White Throat slowly climbs down the tree. It’s the first time he has come down since climbing it in agony two nights ago. The dried yarrow spread on his wounds cracks and sloughs off, revealing deep gashes still oozing his dark red blood. He gingerly avoids brushing his bound broken wing against stray branches as he descends. As much as he would prefer to stay hidden, resting until the worst of the pains subside, he knows his wounds need a healer’s attention. And somehow, he understands Awze has such knowledge. On the ground, White Throat realizes for the first time just how big Awze – and probably all of Strange One’s species – is. Strange One is somewhat bigger than White Throat, but not quite as large as the older, venerated adults he grew up with. He seems to always be growing, which makes his flightless status all the more mysterious, since dragonlings half his size are already learning to fly. Awze is both taller and longer than Strange One. She could easily be as massive as Hook Fang, though to compare the two is like comparing a willow switch to an oak limb. Awze reaches to gently brush more of the dried yarrow away from White Throat’s neck. White Throat flinches instinctively. Her touch doesn’t hurt, but he knows how damaged he is, and he does not yet trust her. Awze’s brow furrows sympathetically, but she says nothing. She studies each wound from chin to shoulder, finally inspecting the bush deer leg splint on his broken wing. She nods in satisfaction. “You did well,” she says finally to Strange One. Never one to accept credit not earned, Strange One objects, “But it wasn’t me! I-I don’t know how to explain –“ “I know,” Awze interrupts. She suddenly looks grieved, remorseful, even. “What I did is… taboo. We don’t even speak of it. I will ask your forgiveness when you understand the depth of the wrong I have done you, but I hope then you will also understand it was for the benefit of your friend. I fear he, and maybe even you, would have died otherwise.” What had she done? White Throat doesn’t understand anymore than Strange One seems to understand, if his puzzled expression may be judged. How could anything she did to save their lives be wrong? How could she have done anything when she only just arrived moments ago? “These wounds are healing well,” Awze declares, “but they need some washing and fresh yarrow applied.” She turns to the twins, who have been staring in awed silence since her arrival. Peering at Dark Claw’s injured flank, she notes, “You could use attention, too. Are you able to collect more yarrow as before?” Dark Claw puffs his chest proudly. “Of course, I can! I still remember where we found it in the first place.” “I know where there’s more,” Glow Claw brags. “I’ll bring back twice as much as Dark Claw!” The bickering pair beat wings quickly, each curiously enthusiastic to impress the colorful stranger. “Come,” Awze beckons to White Throat and Strange One. “There is a stream not far from here. We will wash those wounds while that amusing pair gathers more yarrow and goodness knows whatever else they find that could be useful.”

[strangeonethedragon]

Who I Am #24

White Throat does not miss Awze's hesitation before answering Strange One's question. Instinctively he knows she has information she is withholding, and that makes her instantly suspicious. White Throat watches her cautiously from the secure screen of his tree perch. Regardless of species, she is still a dragon, though no more similar to his kind than Strange One is, but White Throat knows a thing or two about how to read dragons. He studies Awze with hard, sharp eyes. Physically, she looks very similar to Strange One, though with more feathers than fur. Suppose it's a difference between the males and females of their species? No one knows anything about Strange One or his kind. That's why he has always been the Strange One. "But where are they?" Strange One asks, continuing his questioning of Awze. It's a good question. The first of his kind to find him, and it isn't his kin? Haven't they been looking for him? Don't they care that he has been missing all this time? Perhaps they do not maintain family ties as closely as White Throat's dragon kind does. At least he knows who his parents are, though sometimes he wishes he didn't as he shudders at the thought of his own father's temper and expectations of him. They've certainly noted his absence by now. What is Hook Fang planning to do about it? Awze looks uncomfortable. She doesn't want to answer Strange One. Why not? She shifts her weight uneasily from claw to claw. The feathers of her ruff rise and fall subtly, like an agitated bird. "Your kin," she says finally, "are home in the Vale. My den is a morning's flight East of them. I came to find you the moment I saw your friend was hurt. There was no time to collect them as well." She is telling the truth, White Throat must admit, but she is still withholding something, which makes him uncomfortable. "But first things first," she says, shaking the uncertain impression and becoming sure and confident again as she had been when she first strode through the undergrowth into their little camp. She lifts her gaze, piercing through the foliage that is supposed to hide him, and pins him with a bold golden stare. It's as if she'd always known where to find him in spite of his dark scales behind the leafy screen. How does she know? "Come down, young dragon," she beckons in a friendly tone. "There is nothing to fear or fight now."

[strangeonethedragon]

Who I Am #23

Never in her life has Awze felt so exhausted, having flown non-stop for a night, a day, and another night, her attention divided between staying aloft and redirecting predators sensed in the vicinity of Mimo's presence.  But it's  worth it!  To find him - Mimo - who everyone thought was long dead.  This has been her task since she first began seeing his dreams.  Nightmares, really.  Always nightmares, the poor mite.  Does he ever get a restful night's sleep?

Seeing him now for the first time, she realizes why it took so long to locate him - why only nightmares, the most powerfully frightening dreams, reached her perception, and why it took so many attempts to send him the path to their clan's new home.  He's so young!

It's as she'd been told.  He was still a nest-bound infant when the eruption happened.  How had he survived?  His nightmare memory never showed her what happened after climbing to the top of the massive rock that saved him from the lava flow. He would cling there, whimpering, heartbroken, completely lost, completely alone.

Just the memory of the dream is enough to bring a fresh lump of sympathy to Awze's throat.  No creature should have to endure what he experienced, yet he has relived it countless times through the mercilessly recurring nightmares.  Swallowing hard to force the lump back, she steps closer to the three creatures huddled on the ground beneath the tree.

Three creatures?  Yes, she can just make out a dark face on Mimo's right and a pale face on the left.  They are well hidden beneath his camouflage.  He is so aptly called Mimo, the little mimic.  But where is the last?  Where us the one she saw through Mimo's eyes torn, broken, and bleeding?  Not... Gone?

A rustle in the tree beneath which the three lie huddling together draws Awze's eyes upward.  There he is!  It is a clever tactic to tuck the severely wounded one high out of reach of prowling opportunistic carnivores.  All are accounted for.  All are safe.

For now.

Four sets of eyes regard her with mixed curiosity and caution.  She feels it as palpably as if they were touching her, probing her face, her legs, her wings.  The uncomfortable sensation reminds her to draw back into herself.  She has been extended for so long, reaching out to Mimo, sensing for dangers near him, and pushing them away, it's an effort to gather her perceptions back into her own body, but it's a relief to regain her personal space.

She takes another step toward the group.  He is still maintaining his camouflage.  Why doesn't he drop it and return to his normal color?  What is his normal color? Does he even know? He has lived this long with no connection to his kin. What does he remember besides the nightmare?

Mimo's colors change then to peach, lavender, and bold orange stripes, copying Awze's patterns.  He opens his mouth to speak, "Are- are you-" he stutters.  Suddenly he rises to his feet and approaches her.  "Are you my mother?" he blurts, wonder and fear quavering his voice.

The question is unexpected.  Awze halts.  Others she has found have expressed relief knowing their seclusion has ended.  While they don't know who she is, they do know how to identify their relatives.  Mimo must have been too young when he was lost.  He doesn't remember what his parents looked like.  How will he react when he finds out...?

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she finds her voice again.  "We are not kin," she answers his query. "But I will take you to them."

[cinnab3an]

Uncolored and colored version of @itsdragonstar’s Awze

[strangeonethedragon]

😤 Cinna draw'd my oc! Lovely to see you, Awze! Sorry I've neglected you. I need some sit-down-and-draw/write time. You have much to explain to Strange One.

[cinnab3an]

Dragon portrait! What a handsome guy…