03-12-2022, 01:29 AM
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THE RETURNED
golden eastern dragon & black jaguar w/ vitiligo. god of war - ancient. bai shi lynn lingré. proper chinese name is lin bai. prefers lynn if close. they/them. blind. wind element & electric element. firstborn son of jerisidie lingré & current head of family. demiromantic gray-asexual. traveler.
The heat of the desert spoke to the beast of war, a warmth they had once lived within. Now, in the colder months, it drew them even more, the promise of heat a grand temptation to the cold-blooded. Great maw spread to breathe in the dry air, blind eyes roving the sky as if they were useful once again. Their ears were strained, picking up the wing beats of their avian companion when he was in flight, the scar-torn dragon patiently treading the treacherous sands below as the sun beat down on them. Malak. Their closest and dearest friend, and if they were in a better state of mind, perhaps even a candidate to be their lover. Deep growl escaping them, a noisy wordless question sent up to the avian on their location. The sands were endless, but the dragon couldn't necessarily say in which direction they were, or what may be laying in wait at the bottom.
Blinking their eyes to keep the sand from their eyes, the dragon paused as they picked up a familiar scent - the scent of The Pitt. Deep in their stomach began the grumble, growing into a growl and slowly, finally into a deep roar. This was their land long ago, they had not forgotten it. This was the land upon which their children had been lain. War still echoed in the ways of this group, in the veins of this land, in the blood of its people. They were home. Standing upon the border, not waiting before trodding inwards, soaking up the scents, looking for any familiar scent. Now this was home. A place as brutal as they were. "Malak. We are home."
(Malak will be posted at a later time, feel free to respond if wanted)
Blinking their eyes to keep the sand from their eyes, the dragon paused as they picked up a familiar scent - the scent of The Pitt. Deep in their stomach began the grumble, growing into a growl and slowly, finally into a deep roar. This was their land long ago, they had not forgotten it. This was the land upon which their children had been lain. War still echoed in the ways of this group, in the veins of this land, in the blood of its people. They were home. Standing upon the border, not waiting before trodding inwards, soaking up the scents, looking for any familiar scent. Now this was home. A place as brutal as they were. "Malak. We are home."
(Malak will be posted at a later time, feel free to respond if wanted)
TOSS YOUR DIRTY SHOES IN MY WASHING MACHINE HEART -
-- dragon shifter .. god of war .. mentally unstable --
-- dragon shifter .. god of war .. mentally unstable --
BABY BANG IT UP INSIDE!