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sockmonkeygerald » Lair » Johnny
Johnny
#26562913
Info
Level 25
Guardian Female
Hatchday
Aug 30, 2016 (3 years)
Stats Growth
Length
11.29M
Wingspan
11.94M
Weight
9956.66KG
Genes
PrimaryGinger Clown
SecondarySwamp Toxin
TertiaryAlgae Glimmer
Eye TypeEarth Common
Energy: 49 / 50
Apparel & Skins
Lineage
Parents
Offspring
none
Familiar
Information
Johnny

No, she's not late; no she's not on what spot; no she's not—being good? What?


One half of a two-egg clutch that hatched within minutes of each other. In the age old tradition of siblings everywhere, learned to fight by scrapping with each other and to fight as a team by scrapping with anyone who attempted to pick on one (and learned to do it very, very well).

Both confounded every traditional guardian in the clan by never noticing the slightest stirring of inclination to seek out their charges. Why would they? Their sibling was always right there.

Left together on Search anyway after completing their stonecraft masteries out of desire to see the world—Earth might be home but, after all, they were born with wings—and made their way as bodyguards and caravan escorts to the Windswept Plateau and Wanderin.

Following her brother's accidental transmutation, his charge vanished altogether while hers underwent an abrupt and total shift to the Wanderin lair. (Not the dragons in it; the lair itself. Given the dragons involved the poor structure needs a dedicated protector of its interests.)

To the consternation of every traditional guardian that learns the tale, this severance of a lifelong ineffable bond troubles neither of them. But why would it? They're still siblings, that will never change. They're just growing separate interests.




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Small for a guardian and always has been, which means she knows her own capabilities perfectly well despite larger guardians' snap assumptions. When she needs help she asks for it, when she says "I've got it," even in the case of something bulky, heavy or otherwise awkward, she means she's got it. Dinky, when he joined the lair, not only accepted that answer with grace but subsequent offers promptly morphed from "Need help?" to "Want help?" with never a claw lifted to assist before her response.

The first time got her attention. The second won her respect, not for being a dashing hero ready to swoop in but a reasonable drake actually listening to the same.

Nowadays "Want help?" frequently comes out as "Want company?" and her answer is usually "Sure," with an occasional followup of "Pass me that" or "Hold this a sec."


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Captured an owl in a skirmish with armored longnecks and trained it to stalk, herd and strike targets. The faes of the lair do not appreciate this addition of a highly maneuverable, utterly silent flier that favors fae-sized snacks, even if its name is Hooey.

Rescued a vulture from a pack of hydrenas and pampered it back to full conniving health, which includes a propensity for acting weak and inattentive then pouncing on anything that comes close. The faes don't think much of that one either. (Nor do parents, but Raffles considers it excellent training for the hatchies.) Its name is Phooey.
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