A Fine Time To Be Green Rhiviyth
| A Fine Time To Be Green Rhiviyth | |
|---|---|
| Impressee | Rook |
| Hatching Date: | 18 April, 2015 Day 25, Month 7, Turn 37 |
| Current Age: | 30 turns |
| Egg Name: | Monument to Perfect Lines Egg |
| Size: | 20.2 feet |
| Dam: | Niahvth |
| Sire: | A Study in Bronze Reisoth |
| Lineage: | Here |
| Clutch: | Clutch:115 |
| Egg Credit: | Lilah |
| Dragon Credit: | Rook |
Boldly hewn of battle-lines and rebellion, this miniature green dragonet, this fierce predator: there is no girlish mint to be seen here, no coy lurk of forest or lichen or spuming spindrift. She is green, grass-green and vivid, from the tip of her pointy nose to the end of her pointy tail. If there is a thing that can be angular, she has it; if there is a thing that should be curved, she lacks it. Draconic she is, make no mistake, but the spikes of her neckridges and the spars of her wings and the talons of her undainty paws all point, ha, to a nature that refuses to bend to feminine conceit.
Contents
Monument to Perfect Lines Egg
This mostly taupe egg may not seem remarkable enough to draw interest, but there is something in its perfect symmetry that might still call the eye. Two steel-grey lines emerge from its expanse, intersecting in the middle to form a perfect 'x' and thereby cut the egg into quadrants. At that crossroads, where those lines meet, they are encased with a darker grey circle - as if daring someone to touch all four sections at once.
A Fine Time To Be Green Rhiviyth
Boldly hewn of battle-lines and rebellion, this miniature green dragonet, this fierce predator: there is no girlish mint to be seen here, no coy lurk of forest or lichen or spuming spindrift. She is green, grass-green and vivid, from the tip of her pointy nose to the end of her pointy tail. If there is a thing that can be angular, she has it; if there is a thing that should be curved, she lacks it. Draconic she is, make no mistake, but the spikes of her neckridges and the spars of her wings and the talons of her undainty paws all point, ha, to a nature that refuses to bend to feminine conceit.
Temperament
Rhiviyth should have been clutched a daughter of Cadejoth, make no mistake about it. The wolf rules her soul, owns her spirit, encapsulates the way she looks at life. There is no future, there is no planning, there is no strife beyond the situation in which one faces at the moment in which they face it: there is just the now. Rhiviyth takes 'draconic memory' to a whole new level, because each and every moment is a brand new revelation to take wolfish joy within. She is fierce and she is wild and she is rampant enjoyment of delight in violence.
She is so very green -- in so many ways, so many flavors, especially first-hatched. She jostles merrily with her fellows, physically and mentally, and seems entirely ignorant of what most would consider common manners. She's happily heedless of lessons, or at least the boring ones. Lessons? Who needs lessons? That thing over there looks like it'd be delicious to chew on. Or that thing over there. Yeah that thing. It needs to be sniffed. It's CALLING to be sniffed.
She'll never quite grow out of her exhuberance of life, and that is a good thing, right? But she'll stop being green in the 'greenhorn' sense of the word -- just as an adolescent pup growing to maturity, she'll find her place in the pack, and settle contentedly into it. She was not clutched to be alpha, and she's fine with that.
But she damned sure wasn't clutched to be an omega, either.
She'll give Rook fits, Rook the dreamer, Rook the pragmatic soul who saves for a rainy day, Rook the worrier. They are the direct conflict, the now and the future, and it will be difficult for them to find a dynamic in which they aren't ripping one another apart. Just as it took Nighteyes and Fitz quite some time to figure it out, so will it take Rook and Rhiv time to learn the traces of their lifebond, to make the concessions needed for their joined-soul to work in harmony instead of discord.
As an adult, the robust nature of her existence as the crucible of green will slowly come into the forefront, as seasoned wood shrinking down into exactly what it is supposed to be. The wolf is still there, yes, but she is a dragon, and she does as dragons do.
One thing dragons do -- and do well (or at least Rhiviyth will!) -- is rise to mate, and the lusty abandonment Rhiviyth flings herself up into the skies will be like clockwork: every spring, every fall, there she goes. She'll give herself to a fierce hunt (she's never the prey, and Faranth herself help any who considers her different) and shamelessly enjoy the claiming.
If she happens to be possessive about whoever catches her later, well, it won't last long. But she'll live in the moment, however long that moment lasts.
In the end, 'that moment' will be her whole life, start to finish, because Rhiviyth doesn't give stock to this whole time business that humans are so great at over-selling. She enjoys every minute of her life. She doesn't allow herself to live a life half-lived... and she won't abide it in either her lifemate or those she construes as pack.
Public Impression Message
'No longer an example of perfect lines and angles, the Monument to Perfect Lines Egg spirals into a chaos of uneven cracks as first a green wingspar punches through the surface and then the thrash of her tail is through. It takes some moments of struggle against the once-perfect cage but then the fierce green has pulled herself out of the shards to wiggle free of the detritus and begin her search on the Sands, one that ends with finding her lifemate.'
Private Impression Message
Here is the joy and the exhuberance and the life that you have missed your whole life, Rook: here is the living! It is green, green all over. All things are green. Here is the adrenaline -- chartreuse! -- and the keen knowing of the scent of the sour sweat of the candidate that stands next in line to you -- drab olive -- and oh, the sweet profile of that incredibly handsome young man down the line -- lifeblood ichor and chlorophyll... so it goes, on and on. Then, simply, an alto growl of possession, and the sensation of teeth sinking as deep into your soul as they can go. « Rook! » she names you, your Rhiviyth, and with a sinking feeling -- really, are those really teeth? -- you realize she is here to stay. Then the sinking is replaced with elation, and all is as it should be, in this perfect, eternal moment.
Mindvoice
Green. Green green green. Everything is green. Greenscale. Greenscreen. There's emerald and cobalt-green and turquoise and olive and wonder-of-all-wonders kelly green. (Such green! So wow.) There's sensations to match: the brush of fur, the thrill of the chase, the boundless enjoyment of all sensations available for the sensing.
But mostly, it's all about the green. (She'll even grade things in green. On a scale of sage to teal, Rhiviyth rates thicktail olive. HARDLY GREEN AT ALL.)
Itchyspots
Behind her headknobs and on her haunches just before her tail. She's all wolf. She may feign having an itchy underside just to get plentiful belly-rubs.
Dragon Inspirations
All things green, that's Rhiviyth, bound into a wolf's eternal living in the moment exactly as it may be. The sense of wolf-philosophy is thanks to Robin Hobb's Farseer books, and Nighteyes especially, a wolf who once broke free of a cage of lines to exchange it for a bonding to a man who changed his life. In exchange, he taught that man how to live in the moment, how to fully enjoy life one fierce moment at a time. 'Rhiviyth' is the unholy Frankenchild of 'veridian' and 'chlorophyll'.
Egg Inspiration: From my home state (well and three others), the four corners! Doesn't seem like a remarkable enough landmark to draw people, and yet it does.
| Clutch 115 | |
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