Smooth olive green scales slide across sinews of fine muscles, mottled slashes of a darker shade mar the perfection of the even shade, breaking up Poplar's form into the shadows of the forest. Uneven spines jut out of her back like roots poking out from the forest floor. Her horns spiral above her head, wrapped in vines with blooming yellow flowers and bursting with healthy leaves. Intelligent lichen colored eyes peek from beneath her relaxed eyelids. Her pale, cloud-colored underbelly is lined with dark golden scales. Vines and moss entangle her legs and tail, the forest is reclaiming her. Her broad, chocolate-colored wings are flecked with dark gold scales like bits of treasure. Fireflies hover lazily around her like fairies in the night.
Her chest is wrapped in tattered leather, holding to her body swaths of leaves and branches, along with bangles of golden flowers draped across her wings. A lantern is strapped to her shoulder, glowing with a soft yellow light. Woven pouches wrap across her haunches. A wicker basket filled with exotic herbs and spices is strapped to her side, giving off a natural aroma. Jars of jams and honey clink together on the bands on her opposite side.
A bit unusual in her speaking cadence, a lilting voice like the beginning of spring, and a gait that resembles a fox scampering through the low brush of the forest. Poplar is dragon distant from the rest of her kind, a child of the forest she was enchanted to be one with. She is gentle and kind in her mannerisms as she walks throughs the fields of grass and flowers. She touches each with the talons of a mother to her dragonet, a nurturing touch meant to comfort. Her heart is as vast as the forest she protects, open to all who need her caring touch. Despite her softness, Poplar is far from weak, and will protect her forest from hunters, poachers, and even well-meaning explorers, using her ability to manipulate plants and speak to animals.
Poplar's mother was a rich TempestWing noble by the name of Rolling Thunder. Her passion was trophy hunting, taking the biggest and fiercest quarry from all the lands of Pyrrhia. In Thunder's younger years, she married a LeafWing botanist, and with him built an expansive mansion filled with blossoming plants and the mounted heads of animals from all across the continent. Her mother was a cruel dragon, caring not for the feelings of the animals she hunted or other dragons... except for one. Her mate, a LeafWing named Fircone. Fircone was an expert botanist, and also an animus. He used his powers to further study the plants he was so intrigued with, stimulating their growth and size. Despite his gifts, Fircone was a conceited dragon who cared only for his studies and for Thunder herself. The two dragons decided that they would try for children to carry on their legacy.
Rolling Thunder discovered she was barren after trying for dragonets for years. His frustrated and infuriated the couple. After a contemplative walk through the forest, Fircone devised a plan. The LeafWing stole a hawk egg directly from the next and rushed home with it wrapped in a burlap blanket. In his greenhouse, he began work on a spell...
"I hereby enchant this embryo to become a dragonet with the blood of I and my mate, Rolling Thunder. It shall speak the tongue of all the beasts of the land, and grow to be as beautiful as the tallest oak tree."