Difference between revisions of "Dragon:Svaroth"

Revision as of 11:16, 14 April 2015

{{Dragon |weyr=HRW |impressee=R'sel |name=Statuesque Grace Brown Svaroth |date=2003.03.16 |color=Brown |egg=Runnerbeast Stampede Egg |dam=Wind of Spring Serenade Gold Lhiannonth |sire=Blizzard's Hoar-Frost Bronze Taralyth |clutch=19 |egg credit=R'don |body=

Runnerbeast Stampede Egg

Indistinct legs, manes and wild eyes seem to flicker in and out of a mad swirl of brown, white, black and even blue, encircling this egg in a wild rush to who knows where. On the very top, the strangely clear image of a piebald runner head leads, the black and white neck dissolving into the mass of color that is the rest of the herd. A cloud of dusky sand billows up around the lower half, nearly a perfect match with the color of the hatching ground sands, making it seem as if the egg itself has been overrun and trampled in the stampede.

The final cracking of Runnerbeast Stampede Egg is quick, as befits the rushed patterning of the shell. One moment it's whole, more or less, despite cracks and flakings, and the very next it's no more than shards littered on the sand, a confident brown dragonet standing in the midst of the wreckage

Statuesque Grace Brown

Weathered and polished hardwood graces this firm dragonet's hide, as though he stood proudly facing the elements over many turns instead of curled up warm inside his egg. Small rivulets of gather-finery auburn shine through the deeper tones that prevail over his grand form. Strong muscles are more felt than seen in this sleek brown, life seeming to exude through his hide and touch your very soul. Elegance curves his neck and seems poured down upon him from the stars. Swirling eyes shine with pride and a firm knowledge that already he has done exceptionally well. His wings are tucked gently to his side, and his tail curves about him with a hint of femininity. However, his strength is never questioned, and he has already been given the distinction of hero.

Public Impression Message

Statuesque Grace Brown strides alongside the boys, his wings spreading wider in anticipation of finding that one perfect person, nearly clipping a few of the lads in the line up. Suddenly he whips around, dancing forward as he trumpets with triumph. His muzzle stretches out and barely brushes the chest of a boy with bushy eyebrows and hazel eyes.