"What is... perfection? An abstract thought, a shining shrine at the end. What end? We try for perfection. Yet we can never reach it. So why do we try? Perhaps because we must."
A dragonet sits atop a rocky ledge, while a brown tree turning orange with the changing seasons let’s go of one of its leaves. Her tail is elegantly curled around her talons, as she looks across the horizon to see the sun crawling it’s way above the mountains to shien its rays across the mountains.
She's known within the tribe, for her odd way of talking. Almost as if she's reading a book full of endless advice. She uses your words against you. The dragonet knows what to say and do.
Her identity? Her name? Who is this dragonet who seemingly can destroy a full grown dragon with words?
quiet, flying, having time to think, making small crafts, drawing, being listened to, music, learning
sudden loud noise, studying tribe relations, rain, lack of respect, being talked over, insults to her, her family, or friends
fire, large wings, extensive vocabulary, glaring at others
"The road to perfection is infinite, but we trek it anyway."
. a p p e a r a n c e .
"A small leaf, twirling in the wind, falling from the mother tree."
keeping the original appearance so I can note appearance and redo it
thin and wiry. thin corded muscles, long limbs. average height.
bright red, scales resemble a brighter version of falling autumn leaves.
has an orange tint to it
golden yellow underscales
ashy orange horns. spines are a sort of dim golden color.
eyes are two different COLORS
Autumn is thin and wiry, a dragonet set toward adulthood in a mere two years. They have thin, corded muscles, their limbs long. Despite this, they are below average in height, and lighter than most others.
Autumn’s scales are bright red, some of the bright leaves of autumn. It glows with an orange tint, bright, without burning the eyes. Their underbelly is golden yellow, with the luster of the metal.
Their spines are the same shade, horns curved metal, all delicately shaped. It glints in the sun, looking almost soft.
Their wing membranes are gentle orange, a simple blend between scales and horns. Thin and translucent. Autumn’s wings are strong with a large wingspan.
The eyes are big, set perfectly in the head. Each shines a different color, one amber, the other dark brown. It is sometimes a source of teasing, other times of wonder.
Autumn has a pair of thin glasses, orange rimmed with red twirls inside. It makes up for their slight myopia.
. p e r s o n a l i t y .
"We can describe ourselves, but always hiding the flaws."
Autumn identifies as neither gender, but they are more feminine. An intelligent dragon with a strange view of the world.
They think in pictures, then finding words to describe the perfect image in mind. The words are learned from books, sometimes mispronounced. Often curled up in the library, sucked into a different world.
Artistic, drawing swaying paint marks, depicting scenes of joy, sadness, anger. Drawing is a preferred pastime, decorating their surroundings with painted pictures.
Lives in a different world. Sees metaphors, understanding problems almost instantly. Autumn loves to learn, seeing the world and tiny cells, as a tiny speck in a shining galaxy. Too much, too little, always confused, always understanding.
Music is beautiful. The rhythm, singing chords, strong beats. Telling of an abstract story, changing interpretations, wonderful. They love it.
Socially, Autumn acts shy, staying toward edges. Only talking to others when they speak first, sometimes not even noticing others. Quite good at awkward conversing, and getting distracted. They tend to stare beyond the other dragon's eyes, paying attention to nothing and everything.
They drift into daydreaming almost every day, to their teachers' often disappointment. They just stop listening and start imagining.
Remembers sounds better than pictures. Doesn't always study, only listening, storing the lesson, and remembering at test time.
There is anger, they yell creative strings of words, not just four-letter profanity. Interesting vocabulary. Autumn also gives the silent treatment, is quite a grudgeholder. Not very violent, but tends to insult verbally.
There is a part deep inside them, a down to earth, self doubting part. It says they are weak, pitiful, a failure. It is buried deep, and they hid it. It is there, forever a dark chip inside. It is egged on by rude remarks, of their gender, or lack of it, of her skill and her shortcomings.
Autumn is slightly obsessed with perfection. A young dragonet, a strange mind.
. b i o g r a p h y .
"There is no reason to poke into another dragon's past. That is not important. The present is."
. r e l a t i o n s h i p s .
"I know many dragons, not too many are friends. No true enemies either. Most are in this blob of neutrality."