Discoveries [open]
Dec 1, 2018 9:44:37 GMT -8
Post by Meds on Dec 1, 2018 9:44:37 GMT -8
Yvonne
Golden wings, slashed with hundreds of differing patterns of yellows and brown, folded tightly against Yvonne's purple-grey body. She had landed not five minutes ago, and now found herself in what was perhaps a swamp. By her calculation it was the first day of Spring, and as such a lot of the stagnant water remained frosty--but the level was rising, there was no denying that. Well, she could fly. It made no matter to her if the waters rose and drowned the little mammals of the land.
Her long tail swept through the air behind her, and her silver eyes narrowed in a look of mute irritation. So she was here, then. This was it. For many days she had gazed across the land at this curious little haven--but she had not been able to get in. Try as she might, the cursed place had been closed to her. But then on that morning, her cold blood was filled with renewed vigor. She would try again to gain access, just once.
It had been a long winter, and such a curiously-sheltered area was no doubt bursting with prey animals and creatures too stupid to take them.
And so she was there. It was rather unimpressive, really. Just murky, scummy, half-choked land.
The purple dragon continued on her way, gingerly stepping over some of the deepest parts. How Yvonne hated getting her wings wet. It did them no harm, truly, for they were as leathery as the next--but it made her feel like she herself was drowning. And more than anything, Yvonne never did that which she did not want.
The water was not too high, she considered as she moved along. She was rather large, after all, even for a dragon, so the water barely skimmed her knees; however it was the thought of it. Swamps were not clean places. Even the smell was offensive. She rolled her eyes, then rolled her shoulders in equal measure to speed up her journey.
Eventually, she came to a lane within the water of sorts; and this one at least had some trees growing. It was reasonably peaceful, especially at that moment since no birds had returned from their winter hiding-spots yet. The trees were tall and long, with lazy branches that flowed with the slow current. At that early-morning time, some of their whip-like tendrils were even still covered in ice. Yvonne snorted slightly, nonplussed, and ground her large teeth together.
Perhaps this land was not as much as she had chalked it up to be.
Golden wings, slashed with hundreds of differing patterns of yellows and brown, folded tightly against Yvonne's purple-grey body. She had landed not five minutes ago, and now found herself in what was perhaps a swamp. By her calculation it was the first day of Spring, and as such a lot of the stagnant water remained frosty--but the level was rising, there was no denying that. Well, she could fly. It made no matter to her if the waters rose and drowned the little mammals of the land.
Her long tail swept through the air behind her, and her silver eyes narrowed in a look of mute irritation. So she was here, then. This was it. For many days she had gazed across the land at this curious little haven--but she had not been able to get in. Try as she might, the cursed place had been closed to her. But then on that morning, her cold blood was filled with renewed vigor. She would try again to gain access, just once.
It had been a long winter, and such a curiously-sheltered area was no doubt bursting with prey animals and creatures too stupid to take them.
And so she was there. It was rather unimpressive, really. Just murky, scummy, half-choked land.
The purple dragon continued on her way, gingerly stepping over some of the deepest parts. How Yvonne hated getting her wings wet. It did them no harm, truly, for they were as leathery as the next--but it made her feel like she herself was drowning. And more than anything, Yvonne never did that which she did not want.
The water was not too high, she considered as she moved along. She was rather large, after all, even for a dragon, so the water barely skimmed her knees; however it was the thought of it. Swamps were not clean places. Even the smell was offensive. She rolled her eyes, then rolled her shoulders in equal measure to speed up her journey.
Eventually, she came to a lane within the water of sorts; and this one at least had some trees growing. It was reasonably peaceful, especially at that moment since no birds had returned from their winter hiding-spots yet. The trees were tall and long, with lazy branches that flowed with the slow current. At that early-morning time, some of their whip-like tendrils were even still covered in ice. Yvonne snorted slightly, nonplussed, and ground her large teeth together.
Perhaps this land was not as much as she had chalked it up to be.