Tenebrae

Clan Progenitor - Lore Dragon - Permanent Resident

(More lore to come)

First Snow

It was the first snow that had seen the clan of the Called gathered. Ophanim the Many-Eyed, the Sentinel, had seen this day coming well in advance, and Tenebrae the Clan-lord had seen to the preparations himself.

“We have plenty to see us through for the Winter?” He finally asked Sunshadow. She nodded. “There is food enough, and all shall be warm, and have places to sleep. Our clan is at peace, our Innocent rests - “

“and there is no more Shade in this place.” The curcuit-scaled Ridgeback Kyril added the news, the proof of it in the quiescence of his hide, through which no warning glow coursed.

“Very well,” smiled the dark Tundra. “Then our work begins.” He walked outside to those gathered there in the twilight. “Does everyone know where they are going?” He called out. “Then begone, my people, and do not return til you have nothing in your claws to show for the work done!”

And through that night, many eyes, many more than Ophanim’s, moved through the darkness, through the air, overland, between the many far flung lairs. Eyes of all flights that lived, dragons of all forms, spread silent through the realm. At each lair, gifts were left; food and clothing, toys and tools and ores, before their bearers slipped away in the growing darkness.

For the clan of the Called, kept only what they needed. They willed to live for others’ sake, and the cold and tired voyagers returned with nothing, to warm beds and welcoming mates, happier at what they had given than they were for what they had.