decisions to decisions are made and not bought

If there was one thing to be known about Astiar, it was that he was horrifically simple. He was a simple creature with simple desires. He was, after all, on the same mental levels as a bug. It was what he was. A cicada that had been taken from a nymph into the body of a dragon. A heavy genetic mutation. How it had happened was unknown. Why it had happened was equally as odd. No reasoning for such a thing, but it had happened nonetheless. It had taken an ordinary metamorphism and created a monster of a creature. A cicada thrust into the body of a dragon. Instincts that did not line up with the body that he was in. The instincts were so basic, though, that they worked rather fine no matter what body he was in. The diet was the same, and that allowed for him to survive without complications. It would be terrible, if he were to change into this humongous form and then instinct not provide for him. It certainly would have led to his demise. Perhaps it had been because of the mutation, that allowed for his body to share a diet with the body that he once had.

Food was constantly on the cicada's mind. Whenever he was not lazing around in camp, or making as much noise as he physically could manage, he was looking for food. Constantly scouring the burned jungle for whatever plant sustenance he could find. The garden that had been made, thus far, had alluded him. That trend would continue today. His antennae were raised high and his head lowered to the ground. Astiar swiftly snapped up burnt twigs, leaves, and the sprouts of plants that were trying their hardest to return to life. His attention was easily moved around - the bug was an easily distracted by many things. Small ants caught his attention, and his lowered head was easily able to see the small insects march along. He chattered to them, and few chattered back. After all, he could be considered a predator now despite his cicada roots. He had the size for it, the body for it. Yet he seemed more than happy to converse with fellow insects in the ways that only insects could. Astiar wasn't too upset about not being able to speak to others that lived alongside him back at the camp. He wasn't truly capable of feeling upset, for that matter. "SMALL," came the sudden shriek from the cicada's mind. It sent the ants scurrying away - a boost of another strange add-on to the anomaly that was Astiar.

The cicada was no deep thinker. It was something that he was not able to grasp. His mind was a simple thing, and simple things were all he could grasp. Single words were the limit of his comprehension for the tongue that everyone around him spoke in spare the language of the insects. He could only comprehend singular words, and even then it was a coin flip of if the cicada would truly understand. Sometimes his expression would only convey confusion, and his head would tilt to the side and he wouldn't make any move based on it - unless other factors came and forced him. Danger was one of the most common forms that would strike the cicada and change his actions. A lazy dragon that did little to nothing had been spurred to investigate during a massive raid that had burned down his food supply. It had led to him venturing from the Pitt's territory, looking for food. Starving, the cicada had been. He still was, in truth, but there was little he could do about it. Food wasn't spare. He wasn't about to go back to where a lion had burned him, where shouting had ensued, where pain had taken hold of one of his legs. It still hurt as he trotted on back to the camp. An awkward limp had attached itself to his walking cycle. Despite having five other legs, Astiar did not easily adapt to change.

Taking in suddenly being able to speak, in an odd sense, was confusing. It didn't compute with his instincts or his mind that was still entirely convinced that he was a bug and needed to stay in his bug like demeanors. Instinct kept him safe. His basic mind had absolutely no reason to ever ignore his instincts. Astiar may have the body of a dragon, but time and time and time again he proved himself to be a bug in the mind. When he arrived back to the camp - after munching upon a rare burned bush that he had found in order to sate his hunger - he somewhat charged at the first person that he saw. It was seldom a time for the insect to actually move quickly. Not even when he was attacked did he move quickly. He did slow down a decent distance away, his antennae wriggling above his head. From his mind came a sudden and sharp chatter, one that absolutely tore into someone's head in the way a severe headache would. "HIVE SMALL GREETING SMALL NO FOOD HIVE GREETING NO FOOD SMALL," came the burst of jagged, simplistic words from the cicada. His head tipped curiously to one side, staring down at whomever it was who was the victim of, technically, the first words for Astiar to ever speak. Loud and noisy, the entire embodiment of Astiar summarized in two words simple enough that even he would be able to understand.

control yourself and take only what you need from it

decisions to decisions are made and not bought

//s’all good!

The dragon’s head remained tilted as Kydobi meandered over. Talons twitched from where they rested in the ground beneath him. His face was as expressionless as always, lacking in any form of change from a neutrality. There was the ever present series of noises that spilled forth from the bug when Kydobi got close. Up until now, that had been the only way that he had ever come close to showing that he possessed an ability to remember faces. He rumbled, then clicking his mandibles. It was the series of noises he had developed, on his own and without coaching, in order to say one, this is this one particular friend’. The other specialized noises that Astiar created were high with contrast, considering that they had to stand out from each other as well as this one being the first that he had developed. Chittering noises parted his maw after the rumbling and clicking subsided.

“SMALL NO FOOD HIVE HIVE NO FOOD SMALL GREETING SMALL HIVE GREETING GREETING GREETING,” again came his basic, simplistic words. Again they barged right in, unhindered by consideration or concern for how others would take him doing so. His simplistic mind couldn’t comprehend such vast concepts. All he knew was that he was doing.. something, yes, it was something. It was like the clicks and chitters and smells of the insect world, but in a different way. He was a creature that barely knew what he was doing. His mind was basic, simplistic, bound to the instincts that kept him alive. He had yet to truly deviate from that mindset, and even this attempt at speaking still fell in line with such.  Astiar’s tail swung behind him rapidly while his massive form plopped down before Kydobi. Soft buzzes sounded from his massive wings in an as equal attempt to display his delight. The dragon’s ears were raised while his head lowered down in a curious manner. If there was one, only one, grand concept that Astiar understood above survival, curiosity would be the name. “HIVE HIVE NO FOOD SMALL LIGHT.”

//mobile

control yourself and take only what you need from it

decisions to decisions are made and not bought

The cicada's voice was a loud one. It fit with his demeanor. A mighty, massive dragon that was constantly buzzing or making some form of noise simply had to have an equally as noisy voice to accompany his stature. It was loud and without regard, without restriction to how amplified it was. It was sharp mental screeches of basic words; shouting, constantly. Loudness was practically the embodiment of the insect, the insect that continued to deviate more and more from the norms that all insects shared. He certainly was still bound to the instincts of one - that was all his mental processes were. This oddity didn't really alter those instincts, nor did it hinder them. Communication was important. It mattered not how simple it was, for it was able to be understood and built on. Astiar's head lowered a little when the other smiled. Expressions were hard for him to understand - almost as hard as being able to grasp what an inside voice was. His own face was barren of any expression. Large, red eyes watched the jaguar begin prancing. Delightful, a term the insect didn't truly understand. Astiar was somewhat keen on mimicking though, and began bobbing his head rapidly up and down. He wasn't quite sure what the whole barrage of sudden movement was about; he could not correlate the excited movements to his sudden speaking capabilities.

Someone else then came over. He didn't quite know them that well, but Astiar did remember seeing this small creature in the earliest moments of his emergence. His wings burst out into a noisy series of buzzing, and his head ceased in the rapid movement to lower a little closer to eye level. A burst of chittering noises broke free from the dragon, mandibles clicking rapidly as the noise ensued. Slow were the movements of his tail behind him, flicking absently, a need to be doing something. "SMALL NO FOOD HIVE NO FOOD SMALL GREETING HIVE NO FOOD SMALL," Astiar again screeched, again barging, without much of a grasp for what exactly he was doing. His mind supplied communication, that this was a form of it that was just as good as buzzing and screeching was - in his mind. The insect spoke in physical ways, noisy ways. However, the dragon had actually spoken in words, in concepts, for the first time. Simple concepts, ones that were just as odd as the dragon that was using them, but borderlined functional. Blue antennae curled and flicked from their place on Astiar's head, a happy and light noise soon coming from his parted maw. As basic as he was, he could understand vague praise.

control yourself and take only what you need from it