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Windswept Nomads

The Writings of a Chaotic Neutral

Character Introductions: Centhwevir
Flight Rising
Ah, so long with BBCode and I've forgotten how HTML works. I'll get quite a bit out of picking LJ back up again, I think.

Now, let's begin.


  The founder of my Clan over on FR (#10642), he was my custom progen. I chose his primary (Splash) and secondary (White) colors and his tertiary (Brown) was random.  As of this posting, he is the first and one of only about 10 live dragons with his color combo.  I'm quite pleased about that.  He and his mate produce lots of rare combos between them, which I privately enjoy even if no one else does.

  Centhwevir is a complex fellow, sort of a messianic figure for his Clan and my first experiment on the internal logic of guardian dragons, their Charges and what their charges ask of them.

[Bio from The FR Website beneath the tag]
He looks at me mutely, remembering when he was able to think, but not able to remember what he thought about. He looks at me as though he wants to understand, as though he remembers understanding.

It hurts to see it.

But I had no choice.

I used him, I learned from him. But I still resent the day I had to take his Mind from him, his Intellect. I regret the day I had to turn him into the Mountain, his once-soft hide hardened for Defense, his muscles hewn and bulging for Strength. When I clasped the iron cuffs around his tail, I tried to save the little bit of softness I knew was still there and wrapped a cloth beneath them to try to keep at least one part of him from being roughened.

I know the other dragons in my care see us together, and must have their misconceptions. That we plan and connive. I wish that were true.

The truth is we sit together, and I remember the conversations we used to have.



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