#moam qursuk

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

about time the babies got proper refs

left is my Qursuk, right is @eastern-lights' interpretation of Fíronmas

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

"Step back, Tama. That new friend of yours can't be trusted."

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

thinking about Daegred eventually inevitably undergoing a metamorphosis into a Lethrblaka and how terrible the process of shedding your exoskeleton probably feels

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

same as many other young dragons hatched from the eggs kept in the vault on Vroengard, Qursuk did not avoid some effects of the radiation on the island. the effect on his ability to fly is negligible and one he can easily compensate for, but it does give him a unique flight pattern he can be easily identified by

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

a menthol drop flying through the sky

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

Qursuk sketches

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

Can Qursuk, Tama and Daegred still communicate after he becomes a Lethrblaka? Btw Shrike seems cool. Second dragon to begrudgingly accept Daegred?

I think it will depend on the degree of dexterity Daegred can retain in his hands post-metamorphosis to still be able to use sign language. Other than that he might be able to write in the sand and ofc communicate via gestures and emotion-indicating vocalizations. He would still have the hardest time talking with Qursuk since they need Tama to speak for her dragon, since Daegred is incapable of telepathic communication.

As for Shrike...

Fly with me, young one. Let me show you something. Qursuk hesitantly complied and took off after the giant dragon. He no longer feared Shrike and managed to gain back some of the natural respect a dragon feels toward a larger member of its kind, but the old dragon's tone sent a wave of unease down to the tip of Qursuk's tail which now twitched constantly. The lush forests passed by below them, intersected by rivers and overgrown fields, until they eventually disappeared altogether. From so high above, it looked almost as if the land fell into a bottomless void. As the dragons began to descend, Qursuk was able to recognize more detail - the ground was not black, but all kinds of sickly shades as if all the life force was sapped from the earth itself. Dead trees were sticking from the discolored soil like thorns, with gnarled, misshapen branches the sight of which made his stomach twist when they got nearer. For they were not branches. They were the decayed, sun-dried bodies of countless Lethrblaka. Their skin had shriveled and turned pitch-black, their heads hung limp on their long skinny necks and their beaks gaped wide open in eternal silent screeches. Their toxic blood seeping into the soil, the long-dried trails of which could still be seen glistening blue-green on the wood, was the cause of the dead earth all around. There were rows and rows of trees with corpses impaled on them, going as far as the eye could see. During their travels around Alagaësia, Qursuk had seen the execution grounds near Dras-Leona where the leading members of the Helgrind cult were hanged after the Great War and their skeletons left there as a reminder of their crimes even five decades later. What he was seeing now was like a hundred of such execution grounds.

Worst of all were the Lethrblaka's eyes. Black, lidless and pupil-less, they were indistinguishable from how they looked in life. Despite his ancestral memories, Qursuk had little experience with their kind, and with limited ability to tell the subtle difference between individual Lethrblaka, every single one of these corpses seemed like his friend Daegred, dead and staring down at him from every direction. Qursuk was so taken aback by these horrible sights that he didn't notice where Shrike was leading him, not until he could feel smooth marble replace the dry soil under his paws. They were in a city, or rather a town, smaller than those in Alagaësia but rivaling the center of Aberon in style. Despite layers of dirt and grime, the walls still shone with white rock too smooth for plants to grow on. And among all this beauty, there was heavy, everpresent silence. There was only one place Qursuk knew with the same contrast of beauty and emptiness - the ruins of Doru Araeba. Qursuk already had more than enough, but Shrike apparently had one more grim surprise for him. In the middle of a wide town square stood a heap of bones. Human bones, bleached by the sun into near perfect whiteness putting the surrounding buildings to shame, and so old that some have already crumbled into fine dust that filled Qursuk's nostrils and forced him to fight the urge to sneeze. The most horrible feeling, he thought, sneezing due to dust that once used to be people. He barely noticed the familiar tooth marks on the most intact bones when Shrike spoke. This, the inner voice was laced with old indescribable pain, a deep sense of urgency and unshakeable duty. This was what we had fought against. This is the fate that we saved your homeland from. One yellow eye turned to Qursuk with an apologetic look. This is why I cannot bring myself to trust your friend.

[good-morzan-inheritance-cycle]

Look at this beautiful artwork!

Look at it!!!

about time the babies got proper refs

left is my Qursuk, right is @eastern-lights' interpretation of Fíronmas