Tzivya's Green Feryth

Red Velvet Swag Egg

It's a large, solid egg, with a shell that undulates slightly across its big broad sides. The color might make it look more dominating, too; it is an undeniably red egg, a rich, dark velvety shade of dense pile and glistening sheen. The combination of rubies and wine and that odd uneven shell gives the hues a gathered look, like material strung up in luxurious swags.

Egg Inspiration: What's a stage without a curtain? And really, what sort of proper curtain isn't fancy red velvet?

Hatching Message: Rocking heavily, the striated curves of the Red Velvet Swag Egg heave and ripple, much as its dam's belly once did in laying it. One fissure, then two, spread longitudinally over its surface, quickly webbing into an intricate maze along its western face. As more cracks force their way deeply through the shell, a goo-encased head shoves partially outward, punching viscerally against its confinement, seeking to win free. And suddenly, there is an explosion of shards that litter the black sands with memories of a none-too-comfy prison - and in their wake, a long, tall wilderness of green hatchling struggles to her feet, tossing back her wobbling, shell-crowned head, and giving a stuttered trumpet to announce her arrival.

Stately Forest Green

A variety of forest hues drench the bright hide of this tall, long hatchling, a progression of verdancy from new leaves to rich viridian to darkest olive green. Her legs are strong but subtly so, tipped with darker paws and dangerous, sturdy talons. Possessed of a taut, streamlined body, ready muscles in her haunches and back hint at strength not entirely evident in her generally sleek shape. A lithe and frisky tail balances perfectly a willowy neck and sensitive muzzle, all held just so. Lofty sails of translucent pine descend from darker, thickset spars sprinkled with a dusting of fey silver. Elongated, argent headknobs, paler at their peaks, lend her head a sense of length, while lustrous and subtle eyeridges lend expression to large, intense eyes below. She holds herself with a regal poise and a controlled demeanor, all self-certainty and lightweight confidence.

Final Size: 24.1

Dragon Inspiration: Your dragon is based off of the character Fastrada from the musical play Pippin. In history, Fastrada was Countess of France, and Empress of the Holy Roman Empire. Daughter of a Saxon count, she (together with other Saxon women) allegedly threw herself barebreasted into battle, causing terror amongst troops. She later became the fourth wife of Charlemagne, to whom she was married in 784. She bore him two children: Theodrada and Hiltrude. (http://www.wikipedia.org)

Name: Feryth - A dash of Fastrada and a touch of that 'fey silver' from her hide, all mixed with your preference for a short and simple name and you have Feryth.

Mindvoice: Your dragon's mindvoice is often the multi-layered sound of bells - whether tiny and tinkling or grand and gonging. In moments of intense pride or deep joy, her rich tones become the grand ensemble of an orchestra, announcing to you the depth of her heart's sentiments. In times of anger, or during her mating flights, those bells and fanfares disappear, transformed to the rumbling, pounding essence of kettle drums - thundering through your mind and blood. Usually, though, her timbre is full of self-confidence and sunny goodwill, and is typically quite earnest.

Internal Impression Message: Haunting strains from some ethereal aria impinge on your senses, wafting first through mind, then body - making such things as burning feet, sweaty brows, and a nervous stomach trivial as it buoys you along. The furor of the sands fades from your eyes, and darkness quickly envelops you - making you believe you are about to faint from heat exhaustion. It is then - in a sudden, overwhelming burst - that the philharmonic strains transform into a magnificent, victorious symphony - the impassioned intensity of which may incite you to tears of ecstatic adulation. Immediately, the Sands, heat, and humidity return in a wave - but all of that is quite easy to bear, with the joyous knowledge that *she* is now with *you*. << Tzivya! >> she announces in that grandiose, rich ensemble, << We will share our tale of glory with the world! Stand with me, beside me forever, and I shall be your Feryth! >>

External Impression Message: The Stately Forest Green strolls along unevenly with unhurried determination as she finally picks up this walking with six limbs thing. No one has yet met her high standards, and so it seems her quest will continue. Red eyes whirl frantically as she deigns to peer at another candidate, then prowling past in a huff as that human yet again fails muster... Wait. Ah, there! Finally. In her excitement she temporarily forgets her manners, hurling her body forward to claim her prize with a proprietary snarl.

Temperament

Weyrling:

Never given to loudness, straight out of the shell Feryth is every inch the noble green. She makes her opinions known with stately comments and thoughts, direct but cunning, self-confident and never too airy. Though she has a small shrewish streak (especially if crossed repeatedly), she’s primarily compassionate and sunny, as well as strong-willed - with a no-nonsense attitude. Though she can be tactful if she tries, at first she prefers more forthright avenues and will seek to impose her will through (mostly) justifiable means.

Proud of endurance beyond that of a typical green, she rarely recognizes her own physical limits and can easily overtax herself. Minor maladies such as strains, sprains, pulls, and tears are liable to plague her youth. She loves to learn, though, and most of all she loves to learn the skills needed to fight Thread. She *is* a warrior, after all, and must learn the proper ways to comport herself, as well as the best ways to battle her ancient enemy. And if, along the way, she happens to act in some inferior fashion - and is confronted on it - well then, she will either have a royal sulk, or pretend it really didn't happen that way at all.

She tends to focus on the ‘here and now,’ leaving worries about the future to those who wish to burden their brains. A strong but blithe spirit, she may seem shallow to some – but you’ll know better, knowing that your Feryth is just saving her best efforts for the things that impact her, you, and your Weyr *now.* When she finds something worthy of her efforts she’ll give her all to the fight, and she’d rather go down in battle than say ‘uncle.’

Adult:

With adulthood comes a more divided focus from your Feryth. The direct, unsubtle means she favored in weyrlinghood give way; growing more savvy by the sevenday, a skill for dissemination and manipulation begins to blossom. Where once she may have attempted to order or demand one of her peers to do something, she might now coax, cajole, or wheedle - depending on the personality involved. She has too much pride, however, ever to resort to bullying, and the sulky behavior, once a signal of her discontent, will slowly vanish.

Her determination applies to battles other than contests of wills and bodies, of course. Should you take to politics, so shall she – a natural leader among her kind, she adores a little politicking. Even should you prefer to keep out of such things, she’ll still prove useful with ‘help’ – at a gather or formal meeting, for example, you may find yourself supplied with what she believes to be the 'proper' mode of speaking and behaving. << You see, Tzivya? I showed you the proper forms of address for all those Master Crafters, and you only bobbled once! I am so proud. >>

Feryth takes special interest in searching for candidates when Ista boasts a clutch on the sands. Interest does not necessarily translate to swift result, however; she selects a candidate with the utmost care and consideration. It’s not beyond her to want to see a potential more than once, examining all sterling traits and shortcomings in detail, before you make her decision formal with an announcement and white knot. She just wants the best for Ista’s precious eggs.

Flight:

In flights you’ll discover an entirely new side to your lifemate – one that may shock you to some degree. Beneath the noble decorum of her usual mein awaits a saucy wanton of untamed passions. Up to a sevenday ahead of her inevitable rise she begins to drop all pretexts of propriety, surprising the males with sudden and very forward flirtations.

When at last she must hurl herself into the sky, she sheds all remaining inhibitions and challenges those males daring or foolish enough to try to match her. Her pace is blistering, her techniques crafty, her attitude aggressive. If they’re incautious some males may receive unwanted gifts from your embattled Feryth: wounds inflicted in her efforts to remain unconquered. When she chooses – or is outmaneuvered by an exceptional male and captured – she’ll embrace her partner with a fervor that could nearly overwhelm you. Should that partner please her well enough, she may for some time afterward bestow him with her lavish praises and attention. In no other case are you likely to see your lady picking flowers to give (though they may be somewhat soggy and chewed) to any beau – but for those few days while she remembers him, she can show such affection.

Wing:

Taking the broad view, Feryth will be quite at home in a wing of fighting dragons. Though very much a team player, she’s adept at taking the reins and issuing commands. Able to grasp the practical necessities of most situations she can, with your help, swiftly guess a good tactic and implement it. She’s got what it takes to lead, should such responsibility come to you.

On the wing, your dragon will be a nigh-unstoppable force; her sturdy endurance and stubborn willfulness can leave her determined to outlast any green. Her long lines require accurate control lest her tail or wingtip be wayward during Fall. Even considering her serpentine build, she excels at maneuvering her lean body through space.

Whatever her position in the Weyr, and she will almost always seek to better not only herself, but you as well. Though she doesn't always notice mistakes (who can blame her, when she has so many things to do?), when they do come to her attention, a quick barrage of thoughts: << Tziv-YA! You were almost hit by the painted rope! You simply *must* learn to duck properly, like me! >> or << Look at that brown, he practically ran over that poor blue getting to the goal! Unacceptable. >>

Credits:

Egg: Griere
Description: Caitlyn and V'lano
Temper: Caitlyn
Puppeteer: Caitlyn