Unnamed
(#26437358)
Level 1 Coatl
Familiar
Greybeak Reaper
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Arcane.
Male Coatl
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
7.45 m
Wingspan
8.9 m
Weight
844.83 kg
Genetics
Flint
Basic
Basic
Obsidian
Basic
Basic
Carmine
Circuit
Circuit
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Coatl
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
6
AGI
7
DEF
6
QCK
7
INT
7
VIT
5
MND
6
Biography
|
이미 알고 있어도 멈출 수가 없었어 "As time passes, it just becomes more ruined." |
 |
By the time he returned, the pale light of evening had given way to the gloomy darkness of night. The only light came from the raging fire in the middle of the campsite, which cast a flickering orange glow on the white fabric of their tent. He could see her silhouette lit up within the drapes of the tent, and guessed that she had decided to go to bed. He hauled their folding table a little ways from the tent, and set it down with a huff. The surface was a tad too slanted for his liking, but it would have to do. Fishing out a pack of cards from within the recesses of his cargo pant pocket, he emptied the cards out into his palm, relishing the feeling of the glossy finish between his fingertips. He set the deck on the table, and rubbed his palms together. Higher and higher, he stacked the cards, the flimsy pieces coming into the shape of a tower under the guidance of his nimble hands. At times, he dared not breathe, for it seemed as though the slightest lapse in concentration would upset the balance of the structure. As time passed, he grew used to the delicate gestures, and the repeated movements became almost like second nature to him. Draw two cards. Lean them against each other. Hope it doesn't fall. Repeat. The house of cards was now tall enough for him to be able to work on it without hunching over. The last few cards were the hardest, and he could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he gingerly set them at the top. The last card was the Ace of Hearts, and he thanked the heavens that it was his lucky card. To his relief, he had no trouble at all putting it at its rightful place at the peak of the tower. He stepped back to admire his work fully, nearly tripping over someone who was standing behind him. In the midst of his endeavour, he hadn't realised that she had been there, watching. "Watch it, you big buffoon," Her words were sharp, but her eyes were teasing, and he gave her a quick peck on the cheek as an apology. "Say, you'll mention me in your speech when you get famous for this, won't you?" She gestured at the cards, and he laughed along with her, thinking of how ridiculous it would be to gain fame for a house of cards. Then, he heard it. The sound of police sirens in the distance. It all came rushing back. The acrid smell of the room. The bloodshot eyes of the man as he had hurled insults at them. The sharp pain in his temple when he had gotten punched. The violence that had followed. The sticky feeling of warm blood on his hands. The memories which he had been suppressing all this while came crashing down on his conscience, and he struggled to breathe amidst the stifling chaos of the past. He recalled how he had told her that they weren't running away. Just hiding out until things cooled down. That was just an excuse for his cowardly self to run from his own guilt. Sure, they had managed to evade capture for weeks now, but how much longer could they hold out? How much longer until their lives collapsed around their ears? He felt a familiar hand gripping his arm - gently at first, then firmer, and he was brought back to the present with a jolt. The vividness of the flashback left him reeling, and he looked over at her, grateful to have her by his side. Soon enough, the exhilarating effect of the adrenaline coursing through his veins died away, and he began to calm down. There was no sign of the police. The sirens he had heard had never been there. Everything had been nothing more than a figment of his imagination. As he stood by the fire, with her by his side, his vision suddenly shifted focus, and he noticed it, almost like he was seeing it for the first time. The cards which lay scattered across the polished wooden surface of the table were all that was reminiscent of the house of cards. The splendour which he had worked so hard to bring about, was now in ruins, no more than a useless pile of scraps. Gone. Just like everything that had ever mattered to him. Everything, but her. |
Art/Other:
Art by Jetta
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This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
Feed this dragon Seafood.
This dragon doesn't eat Plants.
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