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The lightest of greens feather this young dragon's hide, flowing in delicate chevrons along her arching neck. Over her slender haunches and shoulders, where her joints meet, her color thickens briefly, to the crisp, dew-wet of fresh spring grass before turning lighter once more across her abdomen. In build, she's all length, not lanky but graceful and self-aware of her beauty, from the long muzzle's delicate, racing-runner's dished snout to the backswept headknobs, down to pinioned, pointed wings and the long legs often bent in a crouch. Her tail meets, measures, and matches all, an expanse at least as long as the distance between its base and the tips of her front ivory talons. In motion, she is the wind.