[ShadyBro]

According to his rescuers, this Moldruffle was found in an abandoned snare. The hunters either didnt notice the dragons pained screams or simply didnt think it was worth their while to actually haul it back to their base. Over time, he became weaker and more thickly tangled in the wire, and would of likely died if he hadnt been spotted by a passing dragon rider. But the poor soul was left badly injured. Though his wounds did heal, he was left with a broken horn and a false fin to replace the chunk of his tail that was sloughed off in the trap. He hasnt been very keen on being near humans ever since the incident, and rather prefers to grumble and huddle in the back of the med stall, depressed and fearful.

I decided to join in on the fun with a new custom dragon!
Ive been waiting for ages to use this design - and he suits it perfectly <3

Rider: Slim Romanov
Name: Muspell
Gender: Male
Species: Moldruffle

Are all tasks complete?: Yes

[ShadyBro]

I had spent many sleepless nights at the sanctuary. Working with the injured dragons, going out on rescues, pairing them with their riders, it was all very back-breaking work. But of course I couldn't say no.. I never could. I understood how these beasts felt, alone and scared, left to die by the most dangerous creature there was - man. The horrible things I had seen over the years had wrecked my heart and caused a certain distrust of people. Would these riders truly care the companions they took back home with them? Or would I end up finding them abandoned yet again, lost and broken as they were before? It was hard, seeing the off like that. Watching the creatures I had worked with and bonded so closely to trail off with another rider. But it was a bittersweet moment nevertheless, as I did feel a certain pang of happiness knowing that despite all these poor souls had been through, they were able to trust again, due to the kindness of the trainers that traveled out here to help.
Still, I did miss them. Many of the other helpers had taken home a few dragons themselves. And I understood why very well - how could you possibly say goodbye after you put so much work and heart into it? But I had a differant standard. I couldn't possibly take home one of these beasts, when I knew my time was better spent helping the lot of them, and I didn't want to leave to cater to the needs of a single beast just because it was now mine and mine alone. I had plenty of work to do after all.
Of course, my opinion changed fairly quickly when I met Muspell.
He was a young dragon, a Moldruffle of stunning colors. A black and white silhouette across his pelt, and his wings, glittering with shades of vibrant gold and dripping crimson. I was enamored the moment I laid eyes on him, huddled in a corner of our medical stall, eyes pined on my every movement. I could see his skin bristle every time I breathed out, saw the way his claws tapped ever so slightly at the end of each word, feel his heartbeat quicken in tune to my footsteps. He was a stunning dragon, despite his imperfections. In fact his imperfections were probably what drew every one in...at first.
As I paced toward the stall I could feel a shallow silence from the workers around me. I tilted me head to the side, eyeing him. I knew his story already, and while it was a sad one, I didn't much care. I was more enthralled by him - by Muspell, and all that he was. A wild, free spirit, caged by his own paralyzing fear. With each footstep closer he shifted, just slightly, so steady that most wouldn't have noticed. By the time I was centered at his front gate, he was poised to attack. But he didn't. And I found that odd.
"Muspell" I spoke lightly yet sternly, barely a whisper to the humans nearby, but as jarring as a blood curdling scream to the keen dragon staring back at me. As his eyes narrowed, I felt the heat before I saw it. A flame pierced the air next to my head, searing my cheek.
It was a warning shot. He could very easily have killed me then and there. But he didn't. Again, I was intrigued by his cautious fear, the way he turned his panic into such a controlled interaction. I smirked, my posture softening. I relaxed and felt the tremor of his heart beating through the stone beneath us. Somehow I knew he wouldnt hurt me. He was too scared to even try. And I understood why.

[ShadyBro]

After my first meeting with Muspell it was clear that no one else was willing to try and work with him. The trainers and the sanctuary workers alike were terrified of him, and it seemed as though they had good reason to be. I gained a few more scars in my time dealing with the beast. But I didn't mind. In a way I almost enjoyed the little game, the switching of roles between cat and mouse, who would strike first and who would fail. I felt like Muspell enjoyed it to, in the moments that his mind was clear and the panic under control. He had gotten much better over time, and even though he still attempted to maim me from time to time, I felt like I had built up a certain level of trust with him.
One particular morning, before anyone else had arrived that day, I wondered through the halls of our little makeshift medical building, and checked out each of the dragons that were still there. A few hornless Nadders, a badly wounded Terrible Terror, even a Speed Stinger riddled with scars. They had all experienced a horrific trauma in the lifetime, that left them with odd limps and jagged skin. But they seemed so happy. Each of them rushed up to greet me, nuzzled my palm as I walked by, simply so pleased to be around humans despite what the hunters had done to them. So why, I wondered, did Muspell still not trust us? I couldn't blame him of course, but I still felt it odd that his progress was so slow, that he had formed such an attachment to me yet still wasn't happy to to see me when I greeted him. There was something I was missing. Something he had been hinting at somehow that I just didn't understand. But I intended to figure out what.
When I finally reached Muspell's stall, he went through his normal routine of springing up at the gate, snapping at my fingers just inches away even though he could easily reach farther. This time however, instead of backing away and talking him down like I usually did, I leaned forward. He wasn't expecting it one bit, and immediately shot back to his corner, flames blazing.
"Muspell, calm." I snapped at him, glaring at the tendrils of smoke swirling around my head. To my surprise, the fire died out, and Muspell lowered his head submissively. His eyes were still pinned on me, and I could see the anger in them. He was on the verge of panicking again, which would be a nightmare considering he didn't really have me in mind at the moment. I took a deep breath, and before he could react, I stepped inside the stall. The gate snapped closed behind me, the sound of the clattering wood echoing through the walls. Everything became very still all at once. Especially Muspell.
We shared a common look, surprise, fear, disgust. He sprang first however. I felt a chilling blackness curl over my mind as my head hit the stone floor below me. Muspell stood, mouth open to a snarl, claws digging into my legs, wings perched at a tight curl above his crown of sharp horns. He lowered his nose down to my face, eyes peering through mine. I relaxed my body best I could. And blinked softly. He looked at me with slight confusion at first. His posture shifted slightly, and I noticed for the first time in ages, that his eyes actually left mine to wander the area around us. That was what I had been missing all this time. That severe focus that caused such anger in him. It was a perfectly normal behavior that somehow I just hadnt even thought about despite my years of dragon training. I shook my head lightly, almost giddy. Muspell looked back down at me and blinked back, almost in a cutesy sort of manner, as if to say 'Can we just be friends now?'. I unpinned my shoulders from his grip and leaned upward. He leaned back, sitting on his back legs in a sort of begging type stance. I found it oddly adorable.
I reached a hand out to him, let him sniff it curiously, and felt his nose rub against my palm.
He had given in to the pleasure of having a bond with a human. Finally.

[ShadyBro]

Originally when I had met Muspell, I didnt even ponder the thought of flight. He seemed so broken at first, as if he would never actually be able to fly. Which was absolutely ridiculous of course.
Yet after spending all that time with him, getting to learn how his mind worked, I realized that he was just as capable as any other beast here. Just because no one but I could get near him didnt mean he had to spend his whole life trapped in a cage.
So on one of our more quite mornings at the sanctuary, I found my way to the tack room, and collected a few specialty items.
Muspell did have a few balance issues due to his missing horn and sloughed tail, but it wasnt anything that couldnt be fixed with a weighted saddle. I had out blacksmith fix it up for me since I had never really enjoying leather work (hand me a log however, and you would have the best damn bow n arrow set in the whole village). It didnt take long and once complete I honestly adored the work that had been put into it. The saddle was an ashy black leather with sharp patterning through the edges, and though I knew it heavy on the right side than the left, it looks perfectly even and symmetrical. The bridle was an equally beautiful black, with a special setup for Muspell's missing horn, and stunning flame colored feathers clipped to the side. With an awed thank you and a few coins tossed in the direction of the blacksmith, I tossed the tack over my shoulder and excitedly jogged back to the med pens.
My dragon greeted me as he did everyday, lightly chomping his muzzle over my fingers playfully before zipping about in anxious circles. When I plopped the saddle down over the gate however, he froze. His body tensed as his eyes narrowed menicingly, glaring at the strange object.
Muspell, as it seemed, was not a fan of change.
It took some coaxing and quite a few hares to get him to calm down at first, but after a while he seemed content to play with the leather straps like a young kitten. I scratched his chin and held the bridle out to him, letting him nose it, slightly confused. His trust in me was truly put the test when I attempted to secure it over his head. He snapped at me, a few times, before bashing the bridle with his ignited tail. The tendrils of flame burned my feet and clothes, and it took ages to get him to stop attacking the simple item. In the end I ditched the idea of using a bridle, assuming that his time tangled up in the hunters trap had caused an overwhelming fear of things in such shapes as that.
Granted after all the fuss was over, he hardly noticed the saddle being thrown on his back. In fact, he took to it quite well.
He settled down after some time and I was finally able to mount him, cautiously, however more or less pain free. He stood and twisted a bit, testing the material, nibbling at the straps. But eventually he decided he didnt much care either way.
I spent a few days doing this, testing his saddle, letting him get used to the weight. His balance improved amazingly fast, and I enjoyed watching him walk with such agile ease.
When the time came, I led him down to our old flight arena, and gave him room to test his wings again. It took some time for him to really get used to it. A few faceplants here and there. But generally I felt he was more than ready to try it out in the real world.
The first morning we went out, he took off the second I was in the saddle. He had so much pent up energy and wanted nothing more than to glide through the air, at ease with the currents, just enjoying the new sounds and lovely smells. We bonded quickly over his equal love of nature.
In the end, Muspell and I left the sanctuary, my work complete and his time there over and done with. We traveled back to my island, introduced him to Nazzy and Vernon, and settled into his own stall as if he had lived there all his life.