Kara Danvers wrote:Name:
Canopus
Gender:
Female
Subspecies:
WindPersonality:
Canopus' personality is best described as stormy. Short-tempered, often quick to snap, Canopus tends to strike other dargons like a lightning bolt when they first meet her. Kind-hearted words are not often uttered by Canopus, unless used sarcastically. While a rare occasion, it can happen that Canopus lets down her guard long enough to make a friend, though one would pity the dargon that dares betray her.
68/100 wordsItem Description:
Canopus' is never seen without her trademark necklace, a black leather cord that culminates to wrap around a jagged piece of Obsidian.
How She Got It:
"Canopus the sun's getting pretty low, I think we ought to head back," Huffed the small green Windgon keeping pace in flight next to the purple Windgon in question.
Hearing her friend's plight, Canopus stole a sideways glance at the sun, of which was indeed quite low. It would not be long before twilight and one of the tribe's elders had predicted a storm that evening. While Canopus didn't believe in the prediction, something about basing the weather on the creakiness of a pot not seeming that accurate to her, a large cluster of grey clouds was gathering in the east, and it appeared this prediction would be true.
Despite all the facts supporting the idea of retreating to their home, Canopus couldn't help but want to stay out flying. So, against better judgment, she retorted, "Go on and head back then."
The green Windgon opened her mouth to respond, perhaps to reprimand Canopus for being so foolish, though no words ended up uttered, as the dargon, thinking better of any attempt at persuasion, changed course. Canopus knew that she was being foolish, but kept flying anyway, doing figure-eights around the sky as day quickly cascaded into twilight. While that day had been bright and sunny, that night soon proved to be quite the opposite. The second the sun finished its descent, the storm clouds loomed overhead, crouching above Canopus' outstretched wings like a panther waiting to pounce. The jungle cat did not wait long as large bursts of thunder rang out against the silence of night. Canopus, despite her experience, couldn't help but flinch at the booming sounds, the dargon finally realizing her mistake in staying out. Quickly, she tried to correct her course so as to head back to the caves, though Canopus could not correct fully before the first beam of lightning struck out. Luckily, the bolted plasma missed the dargon, however, Canopus knew that now she had no time to get home, now she just needed to get down and out of the static-filled atmosphere.
With the velocity of a diving falcon, Canopus headed straight for the ground, the young dargon knowing to avoid the forest, trees making excellent lightning rods. While her landing was bumpy and quite painful on the paws, Canopus ignored the pain, grateful to be out of the sky. The gratefulness she felt did not stop her, however, from jumping at the second strike of lightning, nor did it stop her at the third. At this point quite overcome with panic, Canopus laid down on the ground and covered her head with her paws, hoping that she could somehow will away the storm. It felt like hours had passed before the thunder and lightning finally ceased, Canopus slowly removing her paws to get a glimpse around her. Much destruction had befallen the forest, the storm knocking down some trees and lighting fire to others, though in the clearing where Canopus lay, all appeared to be well. Standing back up, Canopus shook off the dust from her purple body just as her eyes were captured by a mysterious black glint. Approaching the mysterious object, Canopus slightly remarked at the way the light from the now-present moon caused the black thing, whatever it was, to glow.
Canopus was no expert on stones, but the jagged black thing in front of her appeared to be one, a valuable one she reckoned, mostly because she had never seen one before. Oddly attracted to the stone, Canopus carefully lifted it up in her paw, wincing a little at the heat radiated off of it. Must've come from the fire, she figured. Though it could have been hit by lightning, a little voice said. Deciding that she would keep the object, a momento of her experience, the dargon clutched it tightly between her fingers and took off into the night, for once, headed back home.
647 words