@Zurun
It was a calm, clear spring afternoon in the town of Lantern Port - clear enough that the island of Prufrock was readily visible across the channel of sea that separated it from the mainland, the tall library spire in the center prominent even from such a distance. The town's streets of crushed oyster shells and its walls and cluster of buildings, made of carefully cut stone and intricately carved and runed starwood, glimmered faintly in the afternoon light, which cast a rosy hue on an already predominantly pink landscape. Other colors caught the eye of the discerning dragon, though - bright banners fluttered from many of the shop's entryways, and planters filled with flowering vegetation were aesthetically placed around the businesses. The scents of the flowers mingled with the salty tang of the ocean air that blew inland off the harbor.
Three dragons emerged from one of the buildings - an apparel shop called the Stitchery, according to the banner - and made their way slowly down the main street. One of the dragons, a pale, scarred pearlcatcher wearing an elegant lace collar, thought he saw a petal from a peach tree fluttering in the breeze, but surely they were too far away from the island's grove of peach trees for the wind to have carried it to the mainland. Perhaps, instead, the blacksmith Hollis was practicing with his sword in the courtyard of the smithy, scattering petals of metal. The three caught a glimpse of a coatl getting his wings painted by a wildclaw through the windows of the salon as they walked in the direction of Moonshadow Market, a large, open air affair boasting a number of booths where island residents and visiting dragons could sell and exchange their wares. Instead of entering the market, however, they turned north toward the harbor, then reclined on the dock of the ferry, looking out toward the sea and the island beyond.
Far larger than his two pearlcatcher companions, the imperial settled himself with great care. His form took up most of the length of the wood and stone dock, and his tail trailed in the water beneath it. He gave a small grunt of pain as he adjusted his position, trying to get a fold of his tunic out from underneath of him. The arthritic dragon had been the cause of the trio's slow pace. The third of them, a blue and brown pearlcatcher, leaned happily against his more massive friend as he unearthed a bundle of pastries wrapped in paper stamped with a Copper Coffee logo and tossed one to each of his friends.
"Ahhhhh, we should do this every day - take a break from weaving and sewing in the back of the shop and sit by the sea," said the pearlcatcher, popping a bit of pastry into his mouth. The apparel shop was usually quite busy, but there were no ships in the harbor, and few visitors had flown in.
"Better than listening to my brother and Rosa argue about the design of our new line," agreed the imperial, eyeing his own pastry dubiously. One of the coatls who ran the coffee shop, Cupric, insisted on covering all of the pastries with blue icing. He picked the icing off and dropped bits of it into the sea below him, watching as guppies surfaced to gobble it and wondering if they would end up with blue mouths.
"It looks like it might storm later," said the pale pearlcatcher, his own pastry uneaten as he squinted out at the horizon, staring off the other side of the dock at a dark shape approaching, though it wasn't following the direction of the wind.
The imperial carefully turned his head, not wanting to jar his stiff joints. "That's not a storm," he said, his higher vantage point granting him a better view. "That's a ship."
Credits: Maps by Skylark
It was a calm, clear spring afternoon in the town of Lantern Port - clear enough that the island of Prufrock was readily visible across the channel of sea that separated it from the mainland, the tall library spire in the center prominent even from such a distance. The town's streets of crushed oyster shells and its walls and cluster of buildings, made of carefully cut stone and intricately carved and runed starwood, glimmered faintly in the afternoon light, which cast a rosy hue on an already predominantly pink landscape. Other colors caught the eye of the discerning dragon, though - bright banners fluttered from many of the shop's entryways, and planters filled with flowering vegetation were aesthetically placed around the businesses. The scents of the flowers mingled with the salty tang of the ocean air that blew inland off the harbor.
Three dragons emerged from one of the buildings - an apparel shop called the Stitchery, according to the banner - and made their way slowly down the main street. One of the dragons, a pale, scarred pearlcatcher wearing an elegant lace collar, thought he saw a petal from a peach tree fluttering in the breeze, but surely they were too far away from the island's grove of peach trees for the wind to have carried it to the mainland. Perhaps, instead, the blacksmith Hollis was practicing with his sword in the courtyard of the smithy, scattering petals of metal. The three caught a glimpse of a coatl getting his wings painted by a wildclaw through the windows of the salon as they walked in the direction of Moonshadow Market, a large, open air affair boasting a number of booths where island residents and visiting dragons could sell and exchange their wares. Instead of entering the market, however, they turned north toward the harbor, then reclined on the dock of the ferry, looking out toward the sea and the island beyond.
Far larger than his two pearlcatcher companions, the imperial settled himself with great care. His form took up most of the length of the wood and stone dock, and his tail trailed in the water beneath it. He gave a small grunt of pain as he adjusted his position, trying to get a fold of his tunic out from underneath of him. The arthritic dragon had been the cause of the trio's slow pace. The third of them, a blue and brown pearlcatcher, leaned happily against his more massive friend as he unearthed a bundle of pastries wrapped in paper stamped with a Copper Coffee logo and tossed one to each of his friends.
"Ahhhhh, we should do this every day - take a break from weaving and sewing in the back of the shop and sit by the sea," said the pearlcatcher, popping a bit of pastry into his mouth. The apparel shop was usually quite busy, but there were no ships in the harbor, and few visitors had flown in.
"Better than listening to my brother and Rosa argue about the design of our new line," agreed the imperial, eyeing his own pastry dubiously. One of the coatls who ran the coffee shop, Cupric, insisted on covering all of the pastries with blue icing. He picked the icing off and dropped bits of it into the sea below him, watching as guppies surfaced to gobble it and wondering if they would end up with blue mouths.
"It looks like it might storm later," said the pale pearlcatcher, his own pastry uneaten as he squinted out at the horizon, staring off the other side of the dock at a dark shape approaching, though it wasn't following the direction of the wind.
The imperial carefully turned his head, not wanting to jar his stiff joints. "That's not a storm," he said, his higher vantage point granting him a better view. "That's a ship."
Credits: Maps by Skylark