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Aug. 7th, 2005 @ 04:58 pm Marshmallow Roasting Party (open to anyone!)
Current Mood: excited
Draco seriously doubts that he'll ever understand how anyone can find marshmallows appealing. Little lumps of sticky-sweet sugar, pierced with a stick that's been goodness-knows-where and then purposely burned to a crisp, just don't sound very appetizing to the dragon. But several of his newfound friends seem fond of them, and he thinks it might be interesting to see how the actual process of roasting marshmallows (described by certain strange humans as an art form) is accomplished.

So at dusk on one cool late-summer evening, Draco gathers wood from the nearby forest, then flies to a deserted beach. Here he builds a large campfire, tending the logs carefully so that the flames don't grow to an unmanageable height. He's also brought some sticks which he guesses are the appropriate size for marshmallow-roasting, and arranges these in a neat pile on the sand. Then he sinks back on his haunches beside the fire, mantling his wings, and waits. He just hopes his guests remember to bring their own marshmallows, because he has no idea where to find a field of marshmallow trees...
Dragonheart
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Jul. 27th, 2005 @ 12:30 pm What is your favorite time of day?
Current Mood: nostalgic
My favorite time of day? I'd like to say twilight, but twilight is such a simple word. It doesn't even begin to describe all the changes of light and color which take place between sunset and moonrise. In the draconic language, we have a different word for every stage of the sky as it shifts from day to night. There are literally thousands of ways to say "dusk" or "dawn." But since I'm not speaking draconic, I'll just have to explain to you the particular point in twilight that's my favorite.

There's a time when the last traces of the setting sun fade from the sky, oranges and scarlets giving way to silvers and blues, but you can still feel sunlight's dying warmth on your wings. When the moon is risen, so close you can almost grasp its cool crescent with your claws, and the stars wink in the vastness around you: some of them familiar as old friends, some like strangers whose true nature fires the imagination. When you look down through the clouds at the shadowed hide of the world, sensing in that darkness an infinite possibility. That's the time when you believe in your heart that somewhere, your kindred still hunt and laugh and sorrow and sing; that somewhere, the world still knows the music of dragonsong.
Dragonheart
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Jun. 28th, 2005 @ 01:22 pm Introduction
Current Mood: amused
With a skull-splitting roar and a burst of searing flame, a full-grown dragon descends from the skies. His armored hide is scarred with the marks of many battles, his spiked tail lashes out with deadly force, his talons are wicked and curving. There can be no doubt that this is a most fearsome beast indeed. He lands with wings outstretched to their seventy-three foot span, his yellow eyes surveying the area with a predatory gleam.

Suddenly the dragon's head drops downward, moving with dizzying speed - the massive jaws open wide, the horrible teeth bared ...

... In a broad grin.

Well, hello there, he rumbles amiably. My name is Draco. And I'm a dragon, though you may not need me to tell you that. He folds his wings across his back and tucks his legs under his chest, settling down comfortably.

I do hope I didn't frighten any of you just now. I know it was inconsiderate of me, but I get to make dramatic entrances so rarely these days, I just couldn't resist. Reminds me of my time with the knight Bowen, pretending to let him slay me so that the villagers believed he'd rid them of another 'dangerous' dragon. Draco chuckles, though not without some sadness. Ah, Bowen. How I miss him.

But I am very glad to be here... though I'm not quite sure where here is. Knowing my exact location just isn't as important to me as it once was. I suppose being dead will do that to you. He lowers one yellow eye in a wink.
Dragonheart
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