This is the last clutch from this pair that will feature Guardians! (Their mother’s now a PyMorph Tundra) In celebration, each morsel comes with a simple bio featuring a cute custom limerick!
So, this freeloader wouldn’t sell so she’s been spruced up with a freshly coded bio and some tasty lore fresh from the insomnia-ridden ovens. Someone, please, buy her. She’s eating all my fish and teaching swears to hatchlings.
Coatl F - Pearl Skink / Robin Spinner / Maize Contour SOLD!
Bio story reposted below the cut because I’m proud of it or something.
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Wind Flight lairs are made of kites.
They were the first thing Tuuli saw when she hatched. And all she ever wanted to do since, was fly them; to watch the colorful assortments of cloth spin and dance at her command in the ever winding vortex of The Twisting Crescendo. As a hatchling she would spend hours watching from her nest as relatives and neighbors cavorted in the air, racing their kites and playing snatch-flag. When she was a bit older, she’d waddle down as close to the cliffs as her parents would allow, and beg for a turn, but was always denied.
"Maybe later!", they’d tell her, before gamboling off again.
The first time her cousins had deigned to share their fun with her, to place in her claws the braided kite string, she’d fumbled it immediately. A too strong gust tugged the toy from her grasp and she’d stumbled after it, all but tumbling off the edge of a cliff in her haste to recover it. It happened again the second time; a sudden updraft, and the kite was gone, sailing up into the Crescendo before anyone could stop it. The third time, it all fell to pieces. It took five adults to rescue Tuuli and her cousins from falling into the rapids below the Reedcleft.
No one ever offered her a chance to play again.
"Jinx!”, they’d call out at the sight of her, "bad-luck flying in! Make way!"
And perhaps it was true. She’d had no successes flying her own makeshift kites; most of them fell apart at the first touch of wind. It shouldn’t be this hard, she thought, it’s just cloth! Cloth and twigs! She couldn’t help but feel shame. What sort of Wind dragon couldn’t make a simple kite? Wind Flight lairs are made of kites! So, she kept trying, and they kept breaking. She tried right up until she’d grown old enough to begin learning her trade.
“It’s all well and good to dream,” Mother had said, tugging apart a knot from the string of Tuuli's most recent failure,”but remember that we are a family of weavers. It is not truly our place to fly the colors, but to bring them to life and warm the hides of cold travelers. You needn’t worry about such play.”
But every day, after loom practice, Tuuli would watch the colors dance in the sky and wish. With her wishing came resentment at those who mocked her. With her resentment, came anger. And, with her anger, came an energy she did not yet understand, but she let it fuel her. She poured her frustrations into her work, into her art, until her first blanket was a canvas of her emotions - violent zigzags of pale yellow across a complicated houndstooth of pinks and blues.
“It’s beautiful,” Mother said, ”see what one can accomplish when you ignore childish distraction?” But all Tuuli felt was ill.
“It’s cursed, ya mean,” muttered the Seer, the irritable old Water drake who was meant to be the recipient. “I’ll not have it my lair, and neither will you if’n ya know what’s good!” But Mother wouldn't hear it; the family chased him out before day’s end.
That night, there was a fire.
Cloth and twigs, Tuuli thought, singed and empty, gazing through the smoke behind her at the ruins of home.
who's the lovely snapper in your icon? im in love!
Haha, aw, thanks! I’m glad you like her! That’s my girl Treacle!
I honestly forgot I’d kept her icon from the googly-eye April Fools day.
She’s the plant lovin’ tea master that runs my clan’s cafe. Though, “runs” is a bit of an overstatement since she spends most of her time snoozing in random gardens until the plants start growing on her.
She’s a good listener and, for the right price she’ll devour your sins talk you through your more persistent troubles in life. She’s pretty great.
So, last night I dreamt that the site was invaded by spambots who kept sending people 1 treasure crossroad offers for dragons breeds that didn’t exist and the forums were flooded with people laughing at how terrible some of the fake breeds were; wondering if they could be bred; or freaking out because they accidentally accepted a trade.
And then there was one user in the midst of it all who had just accidentally accepted a trade and found that they now owned the Windsinger. Not even a recolor/mutation like some of the other fake breeds.
Just the Windsinger suddenly sitting in this poor user’s lair while they freaked out about the possibility of being banned for taking it.
So a bunch of us here on tumblr started working on a heist map? I think the plan was to sneak the Windsinger back to his proper lair by breaking into some office building that was simultaneously in California and on the moon...
Yeah, my dream got a little confused as to whether we were dealing with pixels carried on a flashdrive or an actual gigantic unconscious dragon that needed to be carried by several stolen vehicles.
Unfortunately, I woke up before we could actually start the great Windsinger reverse-heist, but I like to think we pulled it off.
