02-15-2019, 12:49 PM
//OOC
Creatures like him were only spoken of in fables and legends. Those who had seen him, however, could agree upon one thing- this was not the same thing the tales spoke of. He was not a massive, ferocious beast that killed hundreds and burned down homes. He did not guard mountains of gold and dozens of kidnapped princesses. He did not tower above those who cowered at his feet, staring down with fearsome yellow eyes that only held bloodlust.
No, not at all.
He was a dragon- that much was blatantly obvious. But he wasn’t any dragon that anyone would expect. The reptile was purple, and underwhelmingly small. The eyes that rested in his sockets were an icy cyan blue rather than yellow. Fire-breathing didn’t seem to be among his skills. Stranger still was the curious intelligence he had, as well as the colorful vials that hung at his neck.
To top it all off, humans were chasing him, not the other way around.
He stumbled through the prickly and dead undergrowth, eyes wide with terror but feet still weighed down with the burden of a hibernation he had been cruelly snapped out of. A sharp purple glow cast itself on the half-melted snow that blurred past.
Several grown men whooped with the excitement of the chase, pointing at the small violet dragon that was steadily losing ground. It was a real live dragon- perhaps the first one spotted in centuries. Imagine how much money they could make from it! If only they had brought their dogs. It was possible that this was just a baby. Could they use its cries to lure out more?
There has to be a way out of this. He couldn’t fly away. His wings would get caught in the branches that tangled overhead. Think. Think! Could he fight them off? A ragged breath clouded the air. Of course not. Was he going to die now? Eleven years wasn’t enough.
A simple root covered by snow was enough to decide his fate. He tumbled, skidding in the mud. They were on top of him just like that. The breath was crushed out of him when one straddled his shoulders and pinned him down. Struggling and thrashing, he snarled and snapped at their ankles while they danced around him, shouting happily. One of them stretched out his wing to look at it, but he snatched it back. A blade was pulled from its sheath at the hip. A second man grabbed his horns and pressed his head into the dirt. With his jaw forcefully closed, he could only let out a muffled and hoarse cry. The man with the weapon met his eyes while he weighed the blade in his palm. His killer.
Leaning forward, the one who sat on him lifted up one of the many vials in his necklace, letting out an inquiry. With a violent struggle, the dragon freed his head and clamped his jaws shut on the man’s hand. With a howl and scream of bloody murder, he lifted a leg and stomped it down, snapping the mythical creature’s fragile wing, earning another cry and struggle. This time, he was restrained with greater force. The man with the weapon kneeled down, snapping at the two who yelled at him, and held the blade to the dragon’s throat.
[align=center]ATTACK IN BOLD #6e65b5 - TAGSCreatures like him were only spoken of in fables and legends. Those who had seen him, however, could agree upon one thing- this was not the same thing the tales spoke of. He was not a massive, ferocious beast that killed hundreds and burned down homes. He did not guard mountains of gold and dozens of kidnapped princesses. He did not tower above those who cowered at his feet, staring down with fearsome yellow eyes that only held bloodlust.
No, not at all.
He was a dragon- that much was blatantly obvious. But he wasn’t any dragon that anyone would expect. The reptile was purple, and underwhelmingly small. The eyes that rested in his sockets were an icy cyan blue rather than yellow. Fire-breathing didn’t seem to be among his skills. Stranger still was the curious intelligence he had, as well as the colorful vials that hung at his neck.
To top it all off, humans were chasing him, not the other way around.
He stumbled through the prickly and dead undergrowth, eyes wide with terror but feet still weighed down with the burden of a hibernation he had been cruelly snapped out of. A sharp purple glow cast itself on the half-melted snow that blurred past.
Several grown men whooped with the excitement of the chase, pointing at the small violet dragon that was steadily losing ground. It was a real live dragon- perhaps the first one spotted in centuries. Imagine how much money they could make from it! If only they had brought their dogs. It was possible that this was just a baby. Could they use its cries to lure out more?
There has to be a way out of this. He couldn’t fly away. His wings would get caught in the branches that tangled overhead. Think. Think! Could he fight them off? A ragged breath clouded the air. Of course not. Was he going to die now? Eleven years wasn’t enough.
A simple root covered by snow was enough to decide his fate. He tumbled, skidding in the mud. They were on top of him just like that. The breath was crushed out of him when one straddled his shoulders and pinned him down. Struggling and thrashing, he snarled and snapped at their ankles while they danced around him, shouting happily. One of them stretched out his wing to look at it, but he snatched it back. A blade was pulled from its sheath at the hip. A second man grabbed his horns and pressed his head into the dirt. With his jaw forcefully closed, he could only let out a muffled and hoarse cry. The man with the weapon met his eyes while he weighed the blade in his palm. His killer.
Leaning forward, the one who sat on him lifted up one of the many vials in his necklace, letting out an inquiry. With a violent struggle, the dragon freed his head and clamped his jaws shut on the man’s hand. With a howl and scream of bloody murder, he lifted a leg and stomped it down, snapping the mythical creature’s fragile wing, earning another cry and struggle. This time, he was restrained with greater force. The man with the weapon kneeled down, snapping at the two who yelled at him, and held the blade to the dragon’s throat.
![[Image: squawk.gif]](https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/405754444454559756/423199229599547418/squawk.gif)
THE DANGER DOESN’T REGISTER ,
THE FEAR FEELS LIKE AN ACT !
dragon — emotionless — tags — typhoon — roleplayed by cakie !