Aura

Aura first opened her eyes to a world of green. Looking up from an egg as rough as bark, her eyes were touched by the dappled light from the sheltered copse of the Nature flight, irises forever stained a dappled veridian. A stark contrast upon her body, white and orange and green. Her nestmates both shared her atrocious clack of green.

Thrown into the winds of change, her young feet fell upon the rim of a den, surrounded by plagued badlands and dry bones of dead creatures. She found herself surrounded by more than corpses, a clan of dragons in a forest of bone. Everything from coatls to mirrors danced across her green gaze until their kaleidoscoped colors fell upon her, then the feet of those eyes stopped.

A mirror padded up to her, the unpatterned scales of his body almost navy, fuchsia eyes pinker than any plague hatchling. Metal spun round his form, around his wings and limbs was a contraption to strengthen atrophied bodies. He bowed his head to her, then said in a voice stronger than his body, "You don't need to run anymore. Our badlands are a wretched haven for anyone tossed from a nest too new."

Aura's green eyes and white cloak still soar above her rust-stained home. Four of her five hatchlings, the first clutch lain by her, are enveloped by pale hues surely taken from her mother. The final hatchling is the carmine red of her new home, and she is eager to welcome any newcomer, young or old, from Plague or not.