Holly

H A T C H E R Y

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I accept letters from hatchlings. Also, name the dragon before exalting please!





Southern raptor subspecies


Holly stayed low to the ground as she crept through the underbrush of the forest. Her green colouring allowed her to move virtually undetected by her mark as she stalked ever closer. Her target was a small caravan guarded by a troop of wildclaw mercenaries. Their cargo, she was sure, would consist of food, weapons, or treasures. Maybe a mix of all three. The wildclaws marched alongside their charge diligently, each one positioned in the most strategic location possible. Their leader clearly knew what they were doing. Holly's tail curled in eager anticipation. She loved a good fight.

On either side of her, Holly's two pack mates waited. Holly knew they were as eager as she was. Without taking her eyes off the caravan, she tilted her head first to the left, then to the right. Soft growls only audible to her due to her companions' proximity indicated their acknowledgement as they both slunk away to take up positions around their target. Holly waited, giving the others time to prepare. A little closer. Ten more feet. There!

Gathering herself, Holly erupted from her hiding place and seize the throat of the nearest mercenary in her jaws. As her victim fell to the dirt, she heard the telltale sounds of Fern and Baroque joining her in the fray. Turning towards the main fight, Holly found herself face to face with a pair of the wildclaw mercenaries. They snarled and bared their fangs, daring her to come closer. Holly hissed back and drew herself up to her full height.

The wildclaws had her pack outnumbered, but that did not mean that had the advantage. She and her pack were not mere wildclaws. They were raptors, an ancient pre-species ancestor to the current wildclaws of Sornieth. Her kind possessed a strain of gigantism lost on the modern members of the species. Spreading her wings to their fullest extent, it was this immense size that she boasted now. The eyes of the wildclaws before her widened in a strange combination of horror and amazement.

Their shock did not last time, however, before the hulking form of Baroque descended from above. Baroque was large even for a raptor. The sudden weight of such a large creature on their backs caused the two wildclaws to stagger and struggle to right themselves. His job done, Baroque flapped his gargantuan wings and wheeled about to assist Fern. Holly wasted no time. Silent as a shadow, she darted forwards and threw her weight into the first wildclaw. She heard his small bones shattering under the impact and the sound of his pained screech only fueled her lust for blood. The second wildclaw hissed and leapt onto her side, his sickle-like claws tearing into her flank again and again. The pain was both infuriating and euphoric.

Holly roared furiously and battered her assailant with her wings. When he refused to let go, she braced herself and rolled onto her side. The act pancaked the offender between Holly and the first wildclaw still struggling for breath through a broken ribcage. Her immense weight crushed the life from both dragons in a single blow as she fell atop them. The force of her fall caused stars to appear in Holly’s vision and, for a while, she could only lay helplessly in a dazed state.

As the confusion in her head cleared, she became aware of another wildclaw closing in on her. They probably thought her an easy kill. Holly growled and shook her head to force the daze away, hauling herself to her feet in one quick motion. The wildclaw, clearly surprised to see her back on her feet, soon found himself pinned beneath one massive foot, her sickle shaped claw pointed directly at his throat.

Holly raised her head and glanced about the clearing. This one was the last. She nodded to Baroque and Fern, a signal for them to inspect the cargo of the now-dead merchants. The wildclaw beneath her struggled weakly, wanting to be gone but all too aware of what Holly’s claws were capable of. His eyes flicked nervously between her and the destroyed caravan. Holly observed his fear with cold amusement, tearing her eyes away only when the massive form of Baroque appeared beside her.

“Some weapons and armour. Mostly treasure,” he reported, keeping his head low as he approached as a sign of submission. “No food.”

Now, there was an issue. Holly narrowed her eyes and her tail swished irritably in the dirt behind her. The clan’s food store was dangerously low. Her pack’s even more so. This caravan had been one of their last hopes. Angrily, she looked around at the corpses of mercenary and merchant strewn about the dirt and, slowly, a wry smirk wormed its way onto her face.

”No.” She laughed and looked down out of the corner of her eye at the captive wildclaw pinned beneath her. ”I see plenty of food.”

Holly is a raptor, an ancient species of wildclaw best known for its extreme gigantism when compared to “modern” wildclaws. She is cold, calculating and has very little value for the lives of those dragons outside of her small pack. Her only concern is the safety and survival of her pack. The entire clan could perish tomorrow, and she wouldn’t bat an eye so long as Fern and Baroque still lived. Most of her pack’s supplies come from raided caravans that travel too far into the clan’s territory. She has little use for treasures save for the piece of apparel she keeps for herself or her pack here and there, but she has a habit of secreting weapons, armour and food away in a safe location before bringing her “catches” to the rest of the clan. No one is able to get close enough to her pack’s den to discover just how much she has stolen or kept from the other dragons and as such her acts have so far gone unnoticed.