Never Know What You're Gonna Get.... [[Open]]

Nuira is a mysterious place, there is no doubt in that. There is no dragon alive that has ever been able to scale all of its depths. In fact, there are likely even threats that could easily overpower a dragon, but that the native tribes simply aren't aware of. And the unknown is always a great target for the creation of traditional myths.

But there is one famous myth that outshines them all in the Iceilo region of Layrian. And that myth is that of the Soothleer. There are many varieties of the myth, spreading all over the Vuari and the Kaamil, and there is no definite idea of what the creature looks like, but all accounts agree that it is terrifying.

Then again, why worry? It is just a myth, right? Well... all myths come from some form of reality...

It was nearly sunset, just about an hour before dusk, give or take a few. A lone dragoness treks through the bone chilling cold, her paws crunching into the snow with every step she takes, the snow going all the way up to her elbows. Her body moves like a shadow through the endless abyss of trees, calm and relaxed, like a river.

Flowing behind her is a blackish purple cape, which seems to cover up most of her features, with the except of her muzzle and front paws. Through the break in her shadowy defenses, one could glimpse a flash of purple scales, reflecting gently by what little sun slithered through the tree tops.

The terrain is slightly hilly, a small uphill climb. The figure doesn't seem phased, but she's quiet, alert. Her movements are deliberate. But where is she going....

The fire cracked softly infront of the black dragon as he took a rest from his long jurney.. or morel like adventure. It took him a lot just to get here, so now he was sitting there, infront of a warm fire, his legs, paws and entire body ,with the exception of his wings wich were tightly tucked to the side of his slim frame, being wrapped in warm fur that he took off of the few animals that he managed to hunt down before he arrived in this harsh area of Layrian.. what was it called again? The Iceilo region.. 'a fitting name..' the black dragon thought to himself as he stared into the flames, wondering just why he was here in the first place.. but then the rather forgetfull dragon remembered...

He heard about this mythical and dangerus creature that was supposed to live in these lands.. and the  thought of meeting a creature even dragons were afraid of just made his spine tingle.. the promise of a quite interesting adventure immediately got the little dragon's attention when he first heard it... so he decided to set his flight course to the continent of Layrian and see where this would lead. But since he also knew that hunting after some old myth that old dragons tell kids to scare them was not realy a good reason on its own to go to a place cold like this, especially not for a dragon that was so sensitive to the cold like him. So he also carried a small leather pouch with him, already filled with various herbs he had found growing around since he heard that this area is supposed to have some rare ones that would surely be usefull later on.

But right now the dragon needed to do something else rather than just stare into the flames while thinking about his reasons to come here.. since this flame was obviously getting smaller, and without some high quality clothing he wouldnt survive the night without a fire, so he went to a nearby tree and used his claws to rip off a good amount of small, sturdy branches before returning to the fire and throwing them into it. But because the wood was not very dry it created a good amount of smoke when it was first thrown in, forming a huge pillar of smoke after a few minutes that could clearly be seen by anyone that was not more than a few kilomiters away from his position. But he did not worry about that.. he needed rest.. so he laid down as close to the fire as he could without bruning the fur that made up his primitive looking clothing and closed his eyes to rest a bit.. it was nearly sunset afterall and you should not wander around in the darkness of this area alone at night.. because no one knows what might lurk in the shadows or behind the next tree...

The wind continued to howl. The stranger kept her head down as snow would brush up against her face,which was still mostly obscured by her hood. Her gaze remained downcast, seemingly focused on nothing but the ground ahead of her. Her paws struggled for a foothold as they seemed to phase through the chilling snow, which by now had moved up her elbows by about three inches. And as the storm raged on, her footsteps would begin to hesitate a bit.

The storm itself was growing quite aggressive. It had seemed to have flung itself through the shadows of dusk out of nowhere. It tore at the trees and bit at the scales of the aimlessly wandering.

(Short post is short because shortness

So that's how this night is going to be.. The black dragon should have known not to camp outside in this ruthless area where the weather could quickly turn against you. The fire soon being blown out by the storm as if it was nothing more than a candle. As soon as the dragon realised that his chances of surviving outside were now drastically slimmed, so he looked around.. nothing.. nothing but hills in walkable distance, and even if there was a cave or atleast some other natural shelter.. he wouldnt have seen it in the storm as his eyes were weak, the storm practically blinding him. There was atleast one thing he could do before having to just wander around aimlessly in the cold snow around him..

He raised his head up so his muzzle was in a vertical position before he opened his maw, a loud roar escaping it moments after.. a cry for help he would send to any other dragon that was within hearing distance of it.. He was not too sure if it was a good idea to do it though, as it gave away his positon even more than his fire.. and even if some other dragon heared it and decided to follow his cry for help, he was not sure what their intentions might be... in any case he would wait, getting even closer to the pile of charred wood that was once a warm fire, aiming to get as much leftover warmth of it as possible.

(short post is short. sowwy)

The cry rattled across the valley, sending chills down the stranger's already frozen spine. Her shoulders squared up, and she let out a short, chilled breath, freezing in place. For a moment, she was silent. And there she remained in silence, not wanting to disturb a single thing for fear of being noticed. However, when the cry died out, fading on the wind, she relaxed. She twitched her ears, and the purplish black/white dragoness began to look around. And immediately, despite her initial fear, the stranger in an overcoat began to wonder what had made that cry.

It had obviously been a dragon. But a dragon in what? Pain? Fear? Anger? She didn't know. Though considering the high pitched nature of the screech, the dragoness quickly came to conclusion it had been some kind of distress. Not helplessness, but distress nonetheless. The dragoness had heard helplessness before. She had heard pain before. Neither sounded like what she had just heard. Then again, everyone has different methods of displaying fear.

Her natural curiosity made her unable to resist the cry, and so she began to venture in that direction. That being said, she was no fool. She approached slowly, stealthily. Of course, it was difficult to be stealth in the snow when you were wearing a pitch black cloak.

When no reply came for a full minute the black dragon dressed in his crude looking fur grabbed one of the charred pieces of wood and crushed it in his paw to relive some of the stress wich was mostly coming from the fear of actually not being able to find a shelter for the night in this godforsaken place. Frost was already spreading over his delicate and vulnerable wing membranes by now, his only way of perventing them  from eventually freezing over entirely was stuffing them down underneath the coat of thick fur wich now made him look like a drake rather than a dragon... but that did not matter, he could not use his wings in this kind of weather anyways...

Another minute had passed, the remains of the fire cold by now. He allmost had lost his hope entirely that someone was going to come and save him, so without loosing any time he got up with a soft groan as he already could feel his legs starting to stiffen from the freezing temperatures around them. He slowly stepped forward, taking one step after the other through the thick snow. He did not care much about being stealthy as he had enaugh troubles trying to keep himself from freezing and move his body to a more suited place.

Life realy was hard for dragons like him, dragons who were sensitive to the elements, whose bodies dont have the size or capabilities to keep up with the much larger, more dangerus variants of their kind. But even if alliances with other dragons would offer him some sort of protection, he allways choose to go alone on such journeys, wich was a  terrible mistake as he now had to realize as the cold air burned its way down his airpipe and within his lungs...

The stranger who snuck up on the black dragon had luck, his eyes were weak, and the night and the snow storm additionally protected her from his gaze wich was more focused on finding a good location to spend the night than to spot a stranger spying on him. He himself was dressed entirely in brown and even some whiter furs,  his scales only occasionally being able to be seen. But even though he was dressed like that, sharp eyes could easily make out his sluggish movements and easily recognize his fur covered body in the white snow.

The stranger pressed on, remaining silent. Despite her better instincts, she followed the cry. As she crept through the cold, her head down to brace herself against the bone chilling winds, she muttered something beneath her breath. Words that belonged to no language, yet fell of her tongue with the fluidity of deliberate intention. All the while, her scales began to shine a soft purple.

There was not another noise. The dragon didn't let out another cry. Eclipsa could only assume that meant they were either dead or... something else. She bit her lip, and kept going.

Soon enough, through the hazy underbrush, Eclipsa spotted something. the dying firelight of a campfire. Not to mention the flash of black scales, hidden beneath snow.

Upon seeing this, at first, Eclipsa was cautious. She had no idea what this dragon's backstory was, his motives, his ideologies. She didn't even know for certain if he was the one who made the cry. However, as she got closer, she began to notice that the dragon was clearly weak, and she paused.

She lay in the snow a moment, listening to the stranger's soft breathing. She watched as his body seemed to grow weaker and weaker. Finally, Eclipsa could no longer stand back, content to watch. She rose to her feet, and approached the dragon.

"Who art thou?" she asked in universal, "Ist thou the one who called me?"