#right head: Skywing (frostbreath)

[some-pers0n]

Y'know somehow after all my years of rewritting WoF scenes for fun, I've never managed to tackle the prologue of TDP. Well, here you go. Blood/gore and character death warning, though you already knew what was gonna happen, huh?

In Hvitur's talons rested the fate of Pyrrhia.

Rain pelted against the IceWing as he flew through the storm, eyes scanning for any signs of shelter; of a place to hide. If he could only make it through the mountain pass he would be safe. The forest and cover of night would keep him hidden from the danger that lurked around.

He kept the egg clutched tightly. It was an unhatched dragon, one from the SkyWing tribe. This was the one night where everything mattered. He had to bring the prophecy to fruition. That was his one task: steal the SkyWing egg, bring it to a safe location, and then spend his years watching over the prophecy dragons. Being a Guardian to them.

Yet, not all of Pyrrhia believed in this prophecy. Some called it a hoax. A false sign of hope for this war to end. Others thought it was doomed from the start, to never be fully realized. However, there were a few who thought of it as an interruption to their plans. They believed it a nuisance. While some sang of peace and dreamed of it coming true, they saw it as nothing more than mad ramblings of harmony.

From the sounds of it, that last group was right behind him.

He glanced back to see three figures soaring only a tail length or two away. Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating their features. SandWings, with the middle boasting a large, intimidating presence.

She had found him.

"Seize him!" she hissed.

Hvitur tried to fly faster. He wanted to dive, shift upwards, roll to the side, anything. Instead, he flailed as the guards caught up to him in an instant. They swiped their claws at his wings, ripping holes in the membrane.

He let out a roar of pain as he flailed. He attempted to hit them with a blast of frostbreath, but their descent was too fast and too disorienting. The pain from his wings and the falling made his head spin. By the time they hit the ground, he could feel them getting to work holding him in place. He only then noticed them putting a restraint on his snout.

The cool hard earth of the cliff face was what greeted Hvitur. It overlooked a sharp drop, jagged spikes at the bottom. He held the egg still close to his chest. He had to protect it. Pyrrhia's future rested upon him.

But hope dwindled as she drew closer.

The SandWing was large, towering over him. She was covered in a myriad of scars. Burns, slashes, bites, anything. One such scar was a slash mark that trailed from her neck down to her mid-stomach. Her scales were dulled, only a dusty copper red now. Her horns were curved around her head akin to that of a ram's. Her obsidian eyes stared at him with barely contained malice.

"Thought you could use your little ice breath on us, didn't you?" Her forked tongue slithered in and out of her mouth. "A noble tactic, though one easily outwitted. You should've used your spiked tail, or perhaps your serrated claws."

Hvitur merely growled in response. "You are a monster, Princess Burn."

"Queen Burn," she corrected. "I am the true heir to the throne. The eldest and current holder of the crown." Her eyes narrowed. "You talk too bold for a weak, snivelling IceWing." She dragged her barbed tail along the ground, the sound of it scraping against the rocks burrowing into Hvitur's mind.

Her eyes locked onto the odd way Hvitur lay. His wings were over his body and his legs and tailed tucked in. With no hesitation, Burn grabbed hold of his ripped wings and pushed them aside to reveal what was underneath.

"A SkyWing egg..." she muttered. She reached for it.

"No! You can't take it!"

"Make me," she snarled. Despite Hvitur's death grip on it, Burn easily pried him away. She was far stronger than any dragon he had encountered.

"Queen Scarlet's outpost guards had told me of a little thief. I only went after you to add some flavour to my rather boring visit." She looked over the egg in her talons. "I wondered at first why an IceWing of all dragons would steal a SkyWing egg. That my spineless idiot of a sister had a new plan to annoy me. Then, I looked to the moons." She gazed up at the three moons overlooking them. They watched on with quiet apathy to the situation, shining brilliantly.

"The Brightest Night is tomorrow," she continued. "Then it made sense." She quickly raised her barb to his throat, only a claw length away from puncturing his neck. "You're one of those peacemongers, aren't you?"

Hvitur stared at the barb in stunned, shocked silence. His heart was beating rapidly.

"SPEAK!"

"Yes! Yes, I am with them. The Talons of Peace," he sputtered out.

"Yes, yes, whatever name you useless pacifists call yourself." She snorted. "Crying over split blood as if it weren't in our nature to battle. Pathetic. A conflict can never be resolved through discussion. Not this one."

She lowered her barb. "No, this war can only be stopped once the life drains from my sisters' eyes. I refuse to listen to the pleas of dragons who think otherwise. No dragon can tell me when I die or who I bow to."

"Haven't enough dragons died?" Hvitur snapped back. "Twelve years of bloodshed, and for what? Nothing? There'll be only more and more. More lives lost. More families torn apart. More death and destruction, and for what!? For you to rule?"

"Tighten the mouth restraint," she ordered the guard. "Again, crying over split blood. Death and tragedy is what make war. It's what makes those who survive rise above. They're stronger. They overcome and kill any who are weaker. It's only what a dragon does best: kill."

"The dragonets will come no matter what you say! They--" Hvitur was beginning to struggle to speak with the restraint closing tighter.

Burn looked over the egg in her talons. "You say that as though I cannot simply crush this egg." A crooked smile appeared on her face. "Perhaps I could shatter it between my claws. Or, maybe I could stab it with my barb."

"You wouldn't..." Hvitur mustered. Even Princess Burn couldn't hurt a dragonet egg, could she?

That smile twisted into a grin. "Wouldn't that be even more tragic?" she asked. "No 'wings of sky' to save the world. What a sad tale for you worthless little worms. Queen Burn, the ruthless blood-lusting monster, destroying the prophesied egg before it could ever come to fruition." She walked over to the edge of the cliff. "With that, no dragonets came to save Pyrrhia, and she ascended to her rightfully earned throne. Oh, doesn't it tug on the heartstrings?" She held the egg dangerously close to the ledge.

Hvitur looked at her with a wide, panicked expression. He thrashed as she held it over the cliff face. "Please..."

Burn looked him dead in the eyes. She let out a sarcastic, dramatic sigh. "So much for destiny, I suppose." With it, she let the egg slip out of her claws, hurling towards its demise.

"NO!" Hvitur yelled. He tried with all of his might to break away. To lunge at her. To try tearing Burn to shreds for what she did.

"Enough with that!" Burn barked back. She raised her barb, this time stabbing it right through Hvitur's neck. Pain rippled throughout his body as the barb pierced through his scales, going right into his flesh.

He lurched. His mind raced as he tried to process the intense agony. Words failed him. Whatever half-baked insult or threat he could toss at the monstrous SandWing silenced by the blood in his throat.

Burn loomed over the shaking body of the IceWing. She tisked. "This is what you pacifists get." With it, she dragged him closer to the edge, letting his body ragdoll off of the cliff. The barb slipped out of him, and Hvitur fell to his death.

The prophecy was ruined. Pyrrhia was lost.

[ch3micallyinsane]

Caiman (he/him) is a 6 year old MudWing bigwings at the start of the story. He has two sisters, ferocious Jacana (she/her or ae/aer) and quiet Pinegrass (she/his/them), and his brother, anxious Knotweed (any, he/him pref).

It begins when Blister’s forces were still allied with the MudWings. Caiman and his sibs are an anxious mess, exhausted from lack of sleep and undertrained for the war. Pinegrass wasn’t even supposed to be a soldier, she was in the medic program until they swapped his training last second to be a soldier like his sibs.

The army attacks a camp of Blaze’s forces, and Caiman gets separated from his sib troop. When he finds them, they’ve been attacked by a trio of full-grown IceWings: two circling Pinegrass and Knotweed and one grappling with Jacana a few feet away. 

Caiman essentially barrel rolls into the IceWings, and pins one down. Knotweed is frozen in terror and Pinegrass doesn’t know what to do, but Jacana finally manages to slit the IceWing she was fighting’s throat and tackles the other dragon just before they can knock Caiman off their companion.

Jacana wrestles the other IceWing to the ground, and they turn their head to the side and blast frostbreath at Caiman, covering his right talon. He’s stunned for a moment, giving the dragon he had pinned time to shove him away and blast more frostbreath at his front legs and chest. 

The last thing he sees before fainting is a SeaWing attacking the IceWing and saying something to the effect of, “Ya good, Sir?” to Caiman.

Caiman wakes up in the small healer’s base that all the dragons on Blister’s side in that fight were sharing, very confused as to where his arms have gone. Pinegrass is asleep in the bed across from him, his tail in pretty bad shape, and a scrawny SeaWing was reading something to Knotweed nearby. They both come running when they notice he’s awake. The energetic SeaWing introduces himself as Remora, the dragon who saved his siblings after Caiman fainted. He explains that he and Caiman’s sibs tried to get help, but no one really cared, so they had to drag him in themselves. And the SandWing healer wouldn’t use much care in dressing a MudWing’s wounds. That’s why the frostbreath on his arms hadn’t been properly treated, and his arms had to be amputated. Knotweed had also helped fashion little earrings from one of the IceWings’ scales so they could wear them as a kind of symbol of their group. Even Remora had one, evidently he’d developed a friendship with Caiman’s sibs for the week or so he was unconscious.

Jacana returns from hunting, and wakes Pinegrass up from her nap. After eating they and Remora all go out to try and relearn moving with these injuries. Jacana tries to help Pinegrass fly with limited use of her tail (because I’m sure using your tail that much right after destroying it will do wonders for your healing process), and Remora tries to help Caiman learn to balance on his wings instead of front legs. Knotweed kinda just cheers them both on. 

The next day Remora has to leave with the other SeaWings, but he keeps finding ways to come back and see Caiman. Over time, Caiman gets pretty good at using his wings as arms, Pinegrass learns complex flight maneuvers aren’t for her and only flies in short bursts, Jacana gains her fair share of battle scars, and Knotweed gets a bit less scared of the war.

Three and a half years later, They’re all almost 10 years old. Remora randomly disappears and the visits stop. 

A month or so later, the MudWings are requested to come help defend Blister’s island camp from SkyWing attackers. However, it’s a ghost town- not a soul in sight on any of the nearby islands. That is, until Remora appears and joins up with Caiman’s troop. He seems quiet. Off. Something’s wrong, and the scale earring he’d always worn was gone.

Knotweed and Remora vanish, and the island suddenly erupts into conflict- The MudWings’ alliance with Blister is over, and they were tricked into coming here so the SeaWings could destroy as much of their army as possible.

Caiman leads his troop to go save Knotweed, but they’re too late. Remora is sobbing over Knotweed’s dead body, a spear through his back and into his chest. 

“I’m so, so sorry. One of my higher-ups followed me when I tried to come tell you about the alliance breaking up. She- she made me promise to kill you all.. I- I- I can’t- she’s my general- I couldn’t-” 

Pinegrass tackles him and he accidentally fatally wounds her Queen Coral style while trying to scare her away with the spear he just pulled out of Knotweed’s chest.

Caiman clutches his sister’s talons as she dies, tuning out Jacana and Remora’s roars and seeing nothing but the fear in Pineweed’s eyes as they go dark. 

Remora disappears into the woods, and Caiman stops Jacana from following so she can help him rush them and Knotweed to the healers. Maybe there’s still time?

There wasn’t. Knotweed was already cold when they picked him up, and Pinegrass gasped his last breath just before Jacana heaved them over her shoulder.

After burying their siblings, Caiman and Jacana say screw the war and flee the camp in the dead of night. They travel the continent, keeping an eye out for a certain SeaWing.

A year and a half later, Caiman finds a note addressed to him. “Caiman, Jade Mountain, midnight, alone.”

Knowing Jacana would never let him go, he reluctantly leaves her in the middle of the night to go to the meeting place.

Remora. He was almost expecting this. Almost.. Happy to see him again. But at the same time, he had to die, didn’t he?

Remora had grown to be pretty strong. He wasn’t as scrawny as when they’d met, and he had all his legs. Caiman honestly wasn’t sure if he’d survive a fight with him.

Remora doesn’t expect forgiveness. He just wants to explain and apologize. 

Piranha, third-in-command in the war, had caught Remora visiting Caiman’s sibs on his last visit. She followed him when he went to warn them of Blister’s alliance splitting up, and forced him to vow to kill all four of them. Remora was afraid she’d do it herself and make it painful. He’d tried to make himself to it, but sneaking up behind Knotweed as he innocently rambled about his progress learning to read and putting a spear through his back before he even knew what had happened was the hardest thing Remora’d ever done. He’d partially intended to let Pinegrass kill him, her death was an accident. And he found with Jacana he wasn’t brave enough to die. After that battle, Remora deserted and joined the Talons of Peace. He’d been keeping an eye out for Caiman ever since to apologize.

I have two endings for this: One where Caiman doesn’t forgive him and kills Remora (and finds the scale earring in his pouch, because he couldn’t bear getting rid of it), and one where Caiman does and Jacana may or may not, and they end up settling in Possibility all together in the future. In this future, the SeaWing-MudWing hybrid mentioned to be in Possibility or Sanctuary or something is Caiman and Remora’s kid.

I gtg bath my dog, as soon as that's done I'll draw some art of this. I rlyyyy hope it's still open xd

P.S I didn't read any of the other stories, hopefully I'm not accidentally copying some1 😭 I'm always scared I'm accidentally like writing the exact same character as some1 else somehow

Mudwing WTA! (Open!)

Here we have an unfortunately dragon who lost both their front legs, and now rely on the strength of their wings to traverse, both on land and in the air.

This fella is a WTA, or Write to Adopt!

The prompt is simple: Write a backstory on how they lost their limbs and anything else you’d like to add about them!

Feel free to write a story in the replies, or to avoid the reply wordcount limit, feel free to reblog! Any type of additional information you create about them is encouraged, and you can absolutely draw them if you want (though this is mainly a WTA, I’ll make a Draw to Adopt soon)!

I’ll give it a few days before I decide where their new home will be! If you have any questions, please feel free to ask! 🧡

[otiksimr]

What about a cross between three tribes? I was thinking about a Skywing, Icewing, and Silkwing tribrid.

They hate each other <3