Post by fairychild on Aug 30, 2009 10:14:44 GMT -5
Contact Info: dumbledore13@earthlink.net 
Character Info:
Name: Rona (row-na)
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Rank: Wingrider
Family: The only family she had was her mother and father. Her father died when she was very young, and her mother went crazy and mysteriously disappeared soon afterwards. Both were drudges, as is she. Her family is the people she works with, though she doesn’t trust them.
Appearance:
She has eyes that are light brown. Her hair is long and black (or really dark brown) and sleek. She has high prominent cheekbones, a small sensuous mouth and thin build. She is 172cm (5’8"), and delicately built. Her jaw line is beautifully shadowed against her long elegant neck she has small breasts, and a small waist and small hips. Her body is long lean and elegant. Her eyes are like a cat, fiery and imposing. She wears a cheap skirt; a hand-me-down lace kirtle and a linen tunic that often falls seductively down her shoulders while she’s cooking. Her long dark hair is normally up in a bun when cooking, when she’s not cooking, she has the hair near her face pulled back, the rest flowing down her shoulders and back.
Personality: Rona is a fiery creature, fiercely self protective and unafraid of a fight. She is cruel and cold. She does not like or trust people, she was a drudge and would rather not stick her neck out for anyone. She was often called unkind, but all of the drudges knew, that though she may act cold, if they need anything serious, she can get it for them. She is independent and feministic; she is wary and often despises men on a whole, yet at the same time is attracted to them. She worked in the kitchens and was a master cook for the family. She far outstripped her tutor, the old lady that used to work there. She is proud of all of her accomplishments, and isn’t afraid of bragging, she is exotic looking and she knows it. The Headwoman had to have had the foulest disposition known to mankind. She never beat Rona because she may be ‘worth something after all, we’ll have you unmarked’. Her son Leslow, as far as she can tell, is certainly his parents’ son. But charming and incredibly handsome. she once sought to improve her standing through him, because though she was attracted to him, his worth was only for logical advancement. After she became a dragon rider she no longer had to sell herself short, and in fact distanced herself from men. She spoke to few of her peers. She spent her time learning to read from her elders and the craftsmen, she learned to draw and sew from them as well. She is always curious and willing to learn more.
History: she was ten, her mother was crying, her father wouldn’t wake… no papa, no, don’t leave us here… Mama, no, don’t hit me, please mama, no. She screamed in her sleep. She woke up sweating on her straw pallet. It was near dawn, she got up to wash before her mistress was awake. She splashed the water on her face, icy cold. She toweled off in the cool pre-dawn air. She walked back inside, donned her long skirt, blouse and kirtle. She combed her hair out and let it dry as she started the fire and began to prepare breakfast. She hummed quietly to herself as she stirred the porridge, and warmed the klah. She got out a pot of berry jam, and a slab of butter in the bowl, that she had churned yesterday. She got some cream too, wondering what her mistress’ fancy would be today. And what her sons would want. She served each of them a tray just after sunrise. Thought sometimes they slept in late enough for it to be lunchtime. Sometimes they still wanted breakfast that late, though. She thought of all of this as she hummed softly in the kitchen. Before lunchtime, she was the only one in the kitchen; she liked those moments of stillness before dawn, a time when memories came into her mind like leaves in the wind. When her dreams clung like beaded cobwebs, wisping like smoke from the fire… all of her thoughts settling in the front of her mind, as she pouted prettily into oblivion. Deep in thought. She had forgotten to put her hair up; it fell in lovely dark ebony-brown subtle waves, caressing her back and shoulders. She was drinking in the morning, the dawn’s rosy fingers caressed the land, and she looked out breathlessly in the doorway for a moment. The sun casting its glow over the water and the fields, all of it. It was lovely. She sighed and walked back inside. Wondering what it would be like to be able to capture that, in paint, in song or glass. Or better yet, to capture the sunrise in a dress, to wear with her always. Dawn came, she made her rounds to each door, knocked gently, giving each breakfast. Leslow ‘accidentally’ caressed her wrist. She trembled a moment, a fluttering in her stomach, and a pulse in between her legs. She looked up at him seemingly fearful and innocent, her dark eyes staring through dark lashes. As she left the room, her blouse ‘accidentally’ came off one shoulder. She left quickly. The day was a series of routines as it usually was, work, work, getting yelled at, making sure the beaten children got medicine, seeing if the elderly needed milk in which to soak their bread. She was kind in her own way. She made sure the house was working perfectly, not really the lady holder, that’s what she told herself anyways. The stable hands all whistled as she walked past after supper was served. She went to sleep in the kitchen on a mat on the floor. She stayed up a while, a shawl around her shoulder, her hair down. She heard a footfall and startled she swiftly turned around, poker in hand. Leslow was in the kitchen. She nodded. Sometimes he came in for something to eat. She gracefully got up and asked him in her sweet and soft voice “what can I get for you my lord?” he just gave a charming smile, his head cocked to one side, his vibrant eyes staring into hers. “What can I get for you…’
“please, call me Leslow.”
“What can I get for you my lord Leslow?”
“May I touch your hand, Rona?” he asked in that charming fashion of his. Rona blushed modestly. She had already been carnal with a few men; one of them was a guest here once. He gave her coins, as a gift, because he couldn’t give her jewels, for she would never have a chance to wear them. She had hidden the coins, with her at all times. They could pay for something pretty at the festival in a few weeks. Her first was a stable boy, it was incredibly uncomfortable and awkward, and it hurt badly. The second time was glorious as were the times to follow. As far as she was concerned she was quite skilled.
“Rona… May I touch you?” he asked, his eyes pleading, she yielded her hand from her shawl. He kissed it, nipped at her wrist and kissed softly up her soft underarm. His hand caressed her arm. This was her chance, if she could ensnare him, then she could be raised to a certain status, she could even become the next lady holder, not like that witch who was there now. She sighed dramatically, her lids half closed, her mouth open slightly. His hand moved to her waist, up her back, to her neck and jaw, his fingers caressed her lips… he was almost cruel in his love making, so forceful, where he had been gentle before, she enjoyed it in a strange way. But it didn’t really matter. He was just a means to an end anyways. Wasn’t he? Her moans answered her questions… Being carnal was even more glorious with him. When she went to give him his porridge, last as usual, he grabbed her by the wrist and kissed her. Kissed her! Soon they were being carnal again, his grunts and her moans… she went back to the kitchen to find the headwoman there.
“What have you done to Leslow?” she hissed, she slapped Rona across the face “touching a dirty thing like you” she grabbed Rona by the hair, and slammed her head into a counter. Rona couldn’t help but yell out. The Headwoman dragged Rona by the hair, to a cell where she threw her in and locked the door. Rona rattled the bars and then sat. She wouldn’t sob. She wouldn’t cry. She would think of a way out… there had to be a way out. Leslow would help her out, wouldn’t he… she found that highly unlikely. Near the evening time The Headwoman had a plain mousy looking girl by the hair and threw her in. “she burned supper. Get out and cook… quickly.” She snarled, obviously angry that she could find no one else capable of the position. Rona kept her victory to herself and made a very good stew and the bread she had started yesterday could still be salvaged, she ordered a haunch of meet to be roasted swift as possible and took some tubers, mixed them with carrots and onions, and placed them with the meat, which she had cut into smaller parts to cook faster. It was served in record time. The Headwoman grumbled, but it was much better than burnt. The Headwoman, after supper, threw Rona by her hair into the cell again, with the mousy girl. The next day, an unexpected guest showed up, she was allowed out of the cell again, to cook for them. It was a dragon rider. She had heard the bugle of the dragon and a thrill went through her. The last time she had seen a dragon was when she was a little girl… she smiled to herself as she gave out orders to other drudges, the memories swimming through her mind. She often dreamed of being a dragon rider, on those gorgeous scaled bodies, sliding luxuriously through the air… but she was a drudge. Drudges weren’t dragon riders. She shook her head. If she had just been more careful she could have ensnared leslow. She checked everything before it was sent out. And then helped serve, she wanted to see the dragon rider. She put here hair half back with copper pins. The dragonrider’s eyes gazed into her dark ones, the almond shape, and seemingly lidless eyes, framed with curving obsidian lashes. He stared at her for only a moment, but her breath caught, and not in a sexual way. It was as if it was destiny of some kind. The Headwoman kept her displeasure at Rona’s presence silent, but her eyes crackled visciously. Rona gave a delicate bow before retreating gracefully back to the kitchens. She heard a commotion from the hallway… she heard the sweeter-than-honey, poisonous voice of the Headwoman, and a rumble of a man’s voice she didn’t recognize. Rona was helping clean up, her hair up again. She ignored the voices until the dragon rider walked in followed by The Headwoman. She curtsied gracefully as she put the pot down and wiped her hands on her apron.
“what can I do for you, My lady, My lord?” she asked in her velvet voice. A strand of black hair falling in her face. The dragon rider spoke to her…
“What’s your name?” he asked kindly. He seemed nice enough.
“Rona, milord.”
“Rona, I am here on search, and my dragon has taken a particular interest in you…”
“your… dragon?” she asked, this couldn’t possibly be happening, of course not, no, this couldn’t possibly happen. A dragon rider on search… finding her… she would be a dragon rider? She saw a dream of her on one of those delicate green beauties flashing through the air….
“yes. We want you to try and impress the queen. Come with us, Rona, you may be a dragon rider.” Her heart leapt. She would have kissed him, she would have hugged him, she would have cried. But all of that turmoil only went on inside. Her face remained a doll-like mask, of glowing skin and almond eyes.
“I would like that very much” she said, her eyes gazing into the dragon rider’s. “Please, take me.” She said, her voice steady, The Headwoman in a huff. Rona took the dragon rider’s hand smilingly.
After the hatching (in the dragon section of history) Rona and Taelith got along just fine. Bathing and preening and feeding. Rona loved to just watch Taelith hunt sometimes, so daintily, so clean. Taelith hated to be dirty. Weyrling training was difficult for Taelith, her being a snob and not liking to get dirty. However Rona enjoyed putting on her first pair of rider leggings and helmet, to put away the skirt and kirtle for something less feminine. She felt powerful in it. She no longer depended on her beauty or her sexuality. She was a dragonrider in her own right. When Taelith and Rona were first allowed to fly, both were overjoyed. When they went between they did so with complete confidence. Taelith liked to show off her agility when she flew, and during the training exercises. Taelith learned to chew firestone, though she didn't like it. *belch* Taelith burped up fumes and smoke. I hate this, it's so disgusting "don't you at least like the fire, Taelith? Don't you like knowing that you can flame anything, I know I would" that is an excellent point Taelith agreed as Rona put more firestone in her mouth to be chewed and dissolved. For two years Taelith and Rona trained and grew, loved and admired each other. At the end of their training they were assigned to the Pyralis wing. There they do their weyr duties.
-------
Dragon Info:
Name: Taelith
Age: 2 years
Color: Green
Appearance: She is lean and graceful, with pale green scales, with gold and blue worked into them. Her hide looks like citrine in the sunlight, with a yellow tinge. But when she isn’t that lovely color she is more grass green, some days the blue comes out more, and sometimes the gold. She is very delicate looking, and very beautiful. Stunning for a dragon really, and she knows it. She is always clean and polished, and loves it when people compliment how beautiful she is. At four months old she is eight feet long, which is average sized for the greens at this time.
Personality: Taelith is a beautiful dragon, and she knows it. She is proud of her beauty, and loves being clean. She hates dirt and getting dirty, but will do it for food or if she’s playing with the other dragons. She thinks she is better than all the other dragons, because they are all obviously stupid not to fully appreciate how beautiful and intelligent she is. She feels like the queen dragon should be a green, and is certain that if that were the case she would definitely be the queen. She loves Rona completely, and thinks she is quite beautiful for being a human.
History: The last three eggs were rocking now, there were the two smaller eggs and a much larger egg. The first of the three was a green, and then another green a short time later.
Rona had woken up swiftly, wearing her new bright white dress with a gold and pearl kirtle she had bought earlier, her hair back with gold and pearl pins, her plain leather sandals on her feet. She looked in the looking glass, and thought my god, I look beautiful! She touched the reflection. She smiled and did a turn. She heard the bugle of the dragons and ran swiftly on her long legs to the sands. The sands were hot, she could feel it through her sandals. She looked at the glory of the eggs, the light reflected off of her sleek black hair. She was in awe, her mouth open slightly. The queen was glorious. Her eggs began to rock. The largest one was rocking furiously, it was the queen egg. When the little gold dragon burst out of her shell, Rona was so hopeful. But the queen chose the cowardly blonde girl instead. Rona waited on the sands, her calloused feet bothered by the hot sands. She stood and stood, close to tears. She couldn’t go back! She just couldn’t! the last three eggs began to rock. She had this one last hope, but she didn’t dare. Maybe she was destined to be a nobody. The first one that burst forth was a lovely luminous pale green, with gold and blue worked into her scales. She looked at Rona with her faceted eyes. she waddled over trembling all over.
I am Taelith. You are mine. What is this stuff all over my skin, I need wash. But first, food.
Rona, hugged the baby dragon, not caring that she was searing holes through her dress, nor that it hurt her already calloused knees. She held the baby dragon and cried big wet tears. The dragon crooned happily. “thank you, Taelith. I love you, I am yours.” She got up, her hand caressing the scales on the baby’s head and then led her to the feeding table, where Taelith made it clear that it was satisfactory at best and then demanded that she take a bath as soon as possible.
Since then Taelith and Rona have made quite a pair. Rona a bit less snobby than Taelith and often chastising her for being so mean. Rona had warmed up quite a bit since she became a dragon rider. Her green was always the most beautiful she thought. Very proud of her little Taelith, who looked like a small statue of the great queens, only built more delicately. She would always point out that she was much prettier than the bulky queens, and that they could never be as graceful as she, Taelith, was.
Clutch: 11th clutch Adeloth by Bronze Bristith
Hatching Order: 32nd, or third to last
Wing: Pyralis
Character Info:
Name: Rona (row-na)
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Rank: Wingrider
Family: The only family she had was her mother and father. Her father died when she was very young, and her mother went crazy and mysteriously disappeared soon afterwards. Both were drudges, as is she. Her family is the people she works with, though she doesn’t trust them.
Appearance:
She has eyes that are light brown. Her hair is long and black (or really dark brown) and sleek. She has high prominent cheekbones, a small sensuous mouth and thin build. She is 172cm (5’8"), and delicately built. Her jaw line is beautifully shadowed against her long elegant neck she has small breasts, and a small waist and small hips. Her body is long lean and elegant. Her eyes are like a cat, fiery and imposing. She wears a cheap skirt; a hand-me-down lace kirtle and a linen tunic that often falls seductively down her shoulders while she’s cooking. Her long dark hair is normally up in a bun when cooking, when she’s not cooking, she has the hair near her face pulled back, the rest flowing down her shoulders and back.
Personality: Rona is a fiery creature, fiercely self protective and unafraid of a fight. She is cruel and cold. She does not like or trust people, she was a drudge and would rather not stick her neck out for anyone. She was often called unkind, but all of the drudges knew, that though she may act cold, if they need anything serious, she can get it for them. She is independent and feministic; she is wary and often despises men on a whole, yet at the same time is attracted to them. She worked in the kitchens and was a master cook for the family. She far outstripped her tutor, the old lady that used to work there. She is proud of all of her accomplishments, and isn’t afraid of bragging, she is exotic looking and she knows it. The Headwoman had to have had the foulest disposition known to mankind. She never beat Rona because she may be ‘worth something after all, we’ll have you unmarked’. Her son Leslow, as far as she can tell, is certainly his parents’ son. But charming and incredibly handsome. she once sought to improve her standing through him, because though she was attracted to him, his worth was only for logical advancement. After she became a dragon rider she no longer had to sell herself short, and in fact distanced herself from men. She spoke to few of her peers. She spent her time learning to read from her elders and the craftsmen, she learned to draw and sew from them as well. She is always curious and willing to learn more.
History: she was ten, her mother was crying, her father wouldn’t wake… no papa, no, don’t leave us here… Mama, no, don’t hit me, please mama, no. She screamed in her sleep. She woke up sweating on her straw pallet. It was near dawn, she got up to wash before her mistress was awake. She splashed the water on her face, icy cold. She toweled off in the cool pre-dawn air. She walked back inside, donned her long skirt, blouse and kirtle. She combed her hair out and let it dry as she started the fire and began to prepare breakfast. She hummed quietly to herself as she stirred the porridge, and warmed the klah. She got out a pot of berry jam, and a slab of butter in the bowl, that she had churned yesterday. She got some cream too, wondering what her mistress’ fancy would be today. And what her sons would want. She served each of them a tray just after sunrise. Thought sometimes they slept in late enough for it to be lunchtime. Sometimes they still wanted breakfast that late, though. She thought of all of this as she hummed softly in the kitchen. Before lunchtime, she was the only one in the kitchen; she liked those moments of stillness before dawn, a time when memories came into her mind like leaves in the wind. When her dreams clung like beaded cobwebs, wisping like smoke from the fire… all of her thoughts settling in the front of her mind, as she pouted prettily into oblivion. Deep in thought. She had forgotten to put her hair up; it fell in lovely dark ebony-brown subtle waves, caressing her back and shoulders. She was drinking in the morning, the dawn’s rosy fingers caressed the land, and she looked out breathlessly in the doorway for a moment. The sun casting its glow over the water and the fields, all of it. It was lovely. She sighed and walked back inside. Wondering what it would be like to be able to capture that, in paint, in song or glass. Or better yet, to capture the sunrise in a dress, to wear with her always. Dawn came, she made her rounds to each door, knocked gently, giving each breakfast. Leslow ‘accidentally’ caressed her wrist. She trembled a moment, a fluttering in her stomach, and a pulse in between her legs. She looked up at him seemingly fearful and innocent, her dark eyes staring through dark lashes. As she left the room, her blouse ‘accidentally’ came off one shoulder. She left quickly. The day was a series of routines as it usually was, work, work, getting yelled at, making sure the beaten children got medicine, seeing if the elderly needed milk in which to soak their bread. She was kind in her own way. She made sure the house was working perfectly, not really the lady holder, that’s what she told herself anyways. The stable hands all whistled as she walked past after supper was served. She went to sleep in the kitchen on a mat on the floor. She stayed up a while, a shawl around her shoulder, her hair down. She heard a footfall and startled she swiftly turned around, poker in hand. Leslow was in the kitchen. She nodded. Sometimes he came in for something to eat. She gracefully got up and asked him in her sweet and soft voice “what can I get for you my lord?” he just gave a charming smile, his head cocked to one side, his vibrant eyes staring into hers. “What can I get for you…’
“please, call me Leslow.”
“What can I get for you my lord Leslow?”
“May I touch your hand, Rona?” he asked in that charming fashion of his. Rona blushed modestly. She had already been carnal with a few men; one of them was a guest here once. He gave her coins, as a gift, because he couldn’t give her jewels, for she would never have a chance to wear them. She had hidden the coins, with her at all times. They could pay for something pretty at the festival in a few weeks. Her first was a stable boy, it was incredibly uncomfortable and awkward, and it hurt badly. The second time was glorious as were the times to follow. As far as she was concerned she was quite skilled.
“Rona… May I touch you?” he asked, his eyes pleading, she yielded her hand from her shawl. He kissed it, nipped at her wrist and kissed softly up her soft underarm. His hand caressed her arm. This was her chance, if she could ensnare him, then she could be raised to a certain status, she could even become the next lady holder, not like that witch who was there now. She sighed dramatically, her lids half closed, her mouth open slightly. His hand moved to her waist, up her back, to her neck and jaw, his fingers caressed her lips… he was almost cruel in his love making, so forceful, where he had been gentle before, she enjoyed it in a strange way. But it didn’t really matter. He was just a means to an end anyways. Wasn’t he? Her moans answered her questions… Being carnal was even more glorious with him. When she went to give him his porridge, last as usual, he grabbed her by the wrist and kissed her. Kissed her! Soon they were being carnal again, his grunts and her moans… she went back to the kitchen to find the headwoman there.
“What have you done to Leslow?” she hissed, she slapped Rona across the face “touching a dirty thing like you” she grabbed Rona by the hair, and slammed her head into a counter. Rona couldn’t help but yell out. The Headwoman dragged Rona by the hair, to a cell where she threw her in and locked the door. Rona rattled the bars and then sat. She wouldn’t sob. She wouldn’t cry. She would think of a way out… there had to be a way out. Leslow would help her out, wouldn’t he… she found that highly unlikely. Near the evening time The Headwoman had a plain mousy looking girl by the hair and threw her in. “she burned supper. Get out and cook… quickly.” She snarled, obviously angry that she could find no one else capable of the position. Rona kept her victory to herself and made a very good stew and the bread she had started yesterday could still be salvaged, she ordered a haunch of meet to be roasted swift as possible and took some tubers, mixed them with carrots and onions, and placed them with the meat, which she had cut into smaller parts to cook faster. It was served in record time. The Headwoman grumbled, but it was much better than burnt. The Headwoman, after supper, threw Rona by her hair into the cell again, with the mousy girl. The next day, an unexpected guest showed up, she was allowed out of the cell again, to cook for them. It was a dragon rider. She had heard the bugle of the dragon and a thrill went through her. The last time she had seen a dragon was when she was a little girl… she smiled to herself as she gave out orders to other drudges, the memories swimming through her mind. She often dreamed of being a dragon rider, on those gorgeous scaled bodies, sliding luxuriously through the air… but she was a drudge. Drudges weren’t dragon riders. She shook her head. If she had just been more careful she could have ensnared leslow. She checked everything before it was sent out. And then helped serve, she wanted to see the dragon rider. She put here hair half back with copper pins. The dragonrider’s eyes gazed into her dark ones, the almond shape, and seemingly lidless eyes, framed with curving obsidian lashes. He stared at her for only a moment, but her breath caught, and not in a sexual way. It was as if it was destiny of some kind. The Headwoman kept her displeasure at Rona’s presence silent, but her eyes crackled visciously. Rona gave a delicate bow before retreating gracefully back to the kitchens. She heard a commotion from the hallway… she heard the sweeter-than-honey, poisonous voice of the Headwoman, and a rumble of a man’s voice she didn’t recognize. Rona was helping clean up, her hair up again. She ignored the voices until the dragon rider walked in followed by The Headwoman. She curtsied gracefully as she put the pot down and wiped her hands on her apron.
“what can I do for you, My lady, My lord?” she asked in her velvet voice. A strand of black hair falling in her face. The dragon rider spoke to her…
“What’s your name?” he asked kindly. He seemed nice enough.
“Rona, milord.”
“Rona, I am here on search, and my dragon has taken a particular interest in you…”
“your… dragon?” she asked, this couldn’t possibly be happening, of course not, no, this couldn’t possibly happen. A dragon rider on search… finding her… she would be a dragon rider? She saw a dream of her on one of those delicate green beauties flashing through the air….
“yes. We want you to try and impress the queen. Come with us, Rona, you may be a dragon rider.” Her heart leapt. She would have kissed him, she would have hugged him, she would have cried. But all of that turmoil only went on inside. Her face remained a doll-like mask, of glowing skin and almond eyes.
“I would like that very much” she said, her eyes gazing into the dragon rider’s. “Please, take me.” She said, her voice steady, The Headwoman in a huff. Rona took the dragon rider’s hand smilingly.
After the hatching (in the dragon section of history) Rona and Taelith got along just fine. Bathing and preening and feeding. Rona loved to just watch Taelith hunt sometimes, so daintily, so clean. Taelith hated to be dirty. Weyrling training was difficult for Taelith, her being a snob and not liking to get dirty. However Rona enjoyed putting on her first pair of rider leggings and helmet, to put away the skirt and kirtle for something less feminine. She felt powerful in it. She no longer depended on her beauty or her sexuality. She was a dragonrider in her own right. When Taelith and Rona were first allowed to fly, both were overjoyed. When they went between they did so with complete confidence. Taelith liked to show off her agility when she flew, and during the training exercises. Taelith learned to chew firestone, though she didn't like it. *belch* Taelith burped up fumes and smoke. I hate this, it's so disgusting "don't you at least like the fire, Taelith? Don't you like knowing that you can flame anything, I know I would" that is an excellent point Taelith agreed as Rona put more firestone in her mouth to be chewed and dissolved. For two years Taelith and Rona trained and grew, loved and admired each other. At the end of their training they were assigned to the Pyralis wing. There they do their weyr duties.
-------
Dragon Info:
Name: Taelith
Age: 2 years
Color: Green
Appearance: She is lean and graceful, with pale green scales, with gold and blue worked into them. Her hide looks like citrine in the sunlight, with a yellow tinge. But when she isn’t that lovely color she is more grass green, some days the blue comes out more, and sometimes the gold. She is very delicate looking, and very beautiful. Stunning for a dragon really, and she knows it. She is always clean and polished, and loves it when people compliment how beautiful she is. At four months old she is eight feet long, which is average sized for the greens at this time.
Personality: Taelith is a beautiful dragon, and she knows it. She is proud of her beauty, and loves being clean. She hates dirt and getting dirty, but will do it for food or if she’s playing with the other dragons. She thinks she is better than all the other dragons, because they are all obviously stupid not to fully appreciate how beautiful and intelligent she is. She feels like the queen dragon should be a green, and is certain that if that were the case she would definitely be the queen. She loves Rona completely, and thinks she is quite beautiful for being a human.
History: The last three eggs were rocking now, there were the two smaller eggs and a much larger egg. The first of the three was a green, and then another green a short time later.
Rona had woken up swiftly, wearing her new bright white dress with a gold and pearl kirtle she had bought earlier, her hair back with gold and pearl pins, her plain leather sandals on her feet. She looked in the looking glass, and thought my god, I look beautiful! She touched the reflection. She smiled and did a turn. She heard the bugle of the dragons and ran swiftly on her long legs to the sands. The sands were hot, she could feel it through her sandals. She looked at the glory of the eggs, the light reflected off of her sleek black hair. She was in awe, her mouth open slightly. The queen was glorious. Her eggs began to rock. The largest one was rocking furiously, it was the queen egg. When the little gold dragon burst out of her shell, Rona was so hopeful. But the queen chose the cowardly blonde girl instead. Rona waited on the sands, her calloused feet bothered by the hot sands. She stood and stood, close to tears. She couldn’t go back! She just couldn’t! the last three eggs began to rock. She had this one last hope, but she didn’t dare. Maybe she was destined to be a nobody. The first one that burst forth was a lovely luminous pale green, with gold and blue worked into her scales. She looked at Rona with her faceted eyes. she waddled over trembling all over.
I am Taelith. You are mine. What is this stuff all over my skin, I need wash. But first, food.
Rona, hugged the baby dragon, not caring that she was searing holes through her dress, nor that it hurt her already calloused knees. She held the baby dragon and cried big wet tears. The dragon crooned happily. “thank you, Taelith. I love you, I am yours.” She got up, her hand caressing the scales on the baby’s head and then led her to the feeding table, where Taelith made it clear that it was satisfactory at best and then demanded that she take a bath as soon as possible.
Since then Taelith and Rona have made quite a pair. Rona a bit less snobby than Taelith and often chastising her for being so mean. Rona had warmed up quite a bit since she became a dragon rider. Her green was always the most beautiful she thought. Very proud of her little Taelith, who looked like a small statue of the great queens, only built more delicately. She would always point out that she was much prettier than the bulky queens, and that they could never be as graceful as she, Taelith, was.
Clutch: 11th clutch Adeloth by Bronze Bristith
Hatching Order: 32nd, or third to last
Wing: Pyralis
