Dave

Dave is quite a happy Snapper. Much like other dragons of his type, he never sleeps or stops moving, and he will talk endlessly to his clanmates. He shows an unusual amount of energy, bounding about and chatting excitedly, but is remarkably gentle with small creatures and hatchlings. In fact, he’s fonder of them than his friends—oftentimes he makes time to see as many familiars as he can, playing with them and teaching them tricks (much to the chagrin of some older dragons in the clan, as they are not keen on getting pranked by familiars). Between Dave’s energy and the familiars’ mischievousness, the hatchlings are never bored and the adults are always flustered.

He must have come from a Wind flight clan—indicated by green eyes as bright as his wings—but the clan has never been able to find out how. The Windswept Plateau is such a frightening distance away from the Viridian Labyrinth, especially for a wandering hatchling. Some suspect that his egg was stolen by another clan, or he was abandoned nearby. Dave himself refuses to speak on the topic, leading them to think that maybe he has forgotten it all. Even his given name is a mystery; his new clan dubbed him Dave, and he has gone by that name ever since.

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He snapped. He missed. He snapped again. Another miss.

Frustrated, he ground his feet into the earth, snapping a third, fourth, fifth time. Growling, lowering himself to the ground, he watched and waited. Saw a flicker of silver. Snap.

He raised his head from the river, triumphantly holding a fish between his powerful jaws. It wasn’t a particularly impressive fish, but it was the first one he had ever caught by himself. Flapping his wings in delight, he tenderly placed it on the ground, allowing a few hungry sparrowmice to nibble at it.

Snapping about for another hour, he was able to gather enough food to feed himself and a couple of birds, who promptly nested on his back once fed. Grinning, he walked slowly along the side of the river, careful to not shake off any of his new feathery friends. They tweeted and chirped, a couple pecking harmlessly at his thick hide, and he went on contently, happy to have friends—even if they couldn’t speak—and listening to their cheery birdsong.

Rain started falling from the sky, startling the birds, who flew into a nearby bush. He jogged over there, humming, and settled in beneath the rather large bush to shelter himself from the rain. Some of the more timid birds and sparrowmice sat under his wing, not wanting to get wet as it began to pour heavily. The Snapper hummed to them, not being bothered at all by the storm, and they fell asleep there under his wing.

The next morning, the birds awoke, stretching their wings and chirping excitedly at him. Once the last one had flown onto his head, he squawked back at them, shaking the dew and bits of mud from his limbs. He was quite certain that he wasn’t making any sort of sense, but their continued chatter pleased him well enough. They went on like this noisily as he continued along the river.

Following a bend in the river’s flow, the Snapper collided head first with a vibrantly blue Wildclaw. The new dragon growled offendedly, flapping her wings warily. “Oh, hello friend! I didn’t see you there! My apologies,” said the Snapper, bowing his head slightly with respect.

The Wildclaw paused, and blinked in confusion at this bright yellow dragon. She had never seen him before—strange, because her eyes were sharp and he was very easy to spot—but she figured it might be best to treat him kindly. He could hardly be more than a hatchling, after all. “I am Katriss,” she said, bending her neck slightly to get a better look at him. “You… have birds on your back?”

He nodded enthusiastically, eliciting a couple of objecting squawks as the birds moved from his head to his back. “They are my friends!” he exclaimed gleefully, proud of having met creatures who liked him.

Katriss gave a small smile at his enthusiasm. “Haven’t you got other friends? A clan to care for you?” she said gently. He shrugged and looked away.

“A clanless child? Oh no, this won’t do. Here, come with me,” she gestured, and began walking away from the river. The Snapper followed happily, slightly nervous but mostly excited to meet new dragons. As they walked, he asked her numerous questions—Can you fly? Are your feathers as fluffy as they look? Do you eat birds?—and she answered as best she could (mentally vowing to remove birds from her diet as she slipped in a little white lie).

“What about a name?” she asked abruptly, as they approached her clan’s lair.

The Snapper shook his head. “I haven’t got one,” he said, but he wasn’t particularly upset about it.

“I once knew a dragon much like you,” pondered Katriss. “Excitable, bright, chatty… his name was Dave.” She looked at him questioningly.

He smiled. “It’s an excellent name.” The birds on his back chirped their agreement.

They finally reached the lair. “Welcome home, Dave.”







Allochii asked for offspring




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