NOVEL NEXT Chapter 7, Day 25: Fauna
Pryce slowly blinked awake, feeling as though he hadn't slept at all.
The old memories dredged up by yesterday's conversation had stubbornly refused to fade, even now. Several minutes passed, and he shook his head to focus on today's plans. Understanding dragon culture was of utmost importance, but he'd neglected to learn about the local fauna. Every species was shaped by others in their environment, so there was no reason that he couldn't kill two birds with one stone.
The easiest way to describe an animal was to compare it to others, so Pryce prepared for Fathom's arrival by gathering textbooks on the endemic species of the Mainland. This task did not take long to complete, and when it was done he decided to spend the remaining time updating his journal, which currently lacked a proper entry for day 24.
[JOURNAL ENTRY EXCERPTS]
Note: the entry for day 24 was written over the course of day 24 and day 25.
Day 24,
An observation regarding the Draconic language: the word for 'sun' (mattak) seems to be a combination of 'large' (mat) and 'fire' (tak).
Fire holds great symbolism and meaning in human culture, but I imagine it must hold even greater importance to dragons. If the sun is believed to be a great ball of fire, then it might even be an object of worship or reverence…but that is mere speculation, as Fathom has not mentioned anything resembling a God, despite our conversations about the cosmos.
Dragons do not have any kind of astronomical equipment, but their eyesight is so keen that they're able to see the phases of Modius and Aurus. As such, it's entirely possible that the heliocentric belief might only be a little younger than geocentrism, or maybe even older.
It took human scientists a lot of time, effort, and data to develop and prove the validity of the heliocentric model, and even then geocentrism remained a more accurate predictor of the heavens until the former was further refined. Could it be that dragons as flying creatures have a more intuitive grasp of three-dimensional movement? Or is there some fundamental difference in our cognition that allowed them to more easily accept heliocentrism?
There is no way to answer these questions with certainty, but they're fascinating nonetheless.
"Good morning," Fathom said, calling out his greeting as he landed.
"…Good morning," Pryce said, rubbing his eyes.
"Is you…okay?" Fathom asked, peering closely at his face. "Your eyes red and bigger than before."
"I did not sleep good, but I am okay," Pryce said, waving off his concern. "I want to talk about animals today. I show you animals from Mainland, then you describe animals from Loahm, okay?"
"Oh, this is a good idea," Fathom nodded as he sat down on his haunches. "You have animals in ship?"
"No, I have photographs and drawings."
"Oh," Fathom said, looking a bit disappointed before perking up again. "Good drawings?"
"Much better than mine," Pryce nodded, and sat himself down to lay the textbook on his lap.
Fathom moved to position himself behind Pryce, and looked over his shoulder to see the pages.
"This notebook is much thicker than the one you had," Fathom noted.
"This is a book," Pryce corrected. "Notebook is for writing. Books are for reading."
"Hmm…" Fathom rumbled as he inspected the textbook. He'd expressed interest in Pryce's writing before, which was in part due to the fact that draconic writing was limited to iconography, with each word being a unique symbol. It seemed like a terribly inefficient thing to learn, but Pryce supposed that wasn't a big deal for a species with such amazing memories.
"Okay," Pryce said, opening to the first page of listed animals. "First we have snakes, which are long animals like this." He pointed at the picture featured in the textbook.
"Loahm have this animal too. Snakes are dangerous," Fathom rumbled darkly. "Snakes can bite a dragon, make them sick. Bite can sometimes kill dragon. You say this is venom, yes?"
"Right," Pryce nodded warily. A human would stand no chance if a bite could kill something as large as a dragon. "How big is snake that can kill dragon?"
"Very small. Dangerous," Fathom repeated. "Snake is black, has strange, flat head. Other type of snake is very large, kills prey by going around it many times."
"Going around it many times?" Pryce asked, puzzled by this odd sentence.
"Like this," Fathom said, and alarmed Pryce by wrapping his tail gently around his chest.
"I-I see," Pryce said as Fathom sat himself back down. That sounded like a very odd hunting technique. Was it really viable for a snake to choke its prey to death? He was almost afraid to ask, but… "How long is this snake?"
"Average is…ten meters? Very long snake is maybe ten-four meters."
"...Oh."
"Do not go to forest alone."
"You don't need to tell me that," Pryce faintly replied. "I think we should talk about the next animal now. How about…this one? These are seraphs." He pointed at the hexapedal avians that populated the Mainland. Seraphs possessed feathers instead of scales, but the creatures were likely the original inspiration for the dragons of myth, even if the vast majority of species were considerably smaller than a human.
"Colorful," Fathom noted approvingly. "But human photographs do not have IR and UV colors…I want to see a 'seraph' with my eyes."
"Maybe you will one day," Pryce shrugged. "You wanted to know about where the word 'dragon' came from, right? Dragons are animals that don't exist, but humans made art and stories about them, and human-made dragons look like very big seraphs."
Fathom huffed upon hearing this explanation, and flattened his spines in annoyance. "Humans are very confusing. Why do you have many things that do not exist?"
"Stories are old, and they can explain things that humans do not know the answer to. But yes, it is very strange," Pryce admitted. He had never considered how stories developed over the ages, but perhaps some fundamental difference in dragons prevented stories from growing in absurdity over time.
"If dragons do not exist, then why did you name my species 'dragons'?" Fathom asked, sounding a little nettled.
"You…look like dragons," Pryce shrugged apologetically. "If I name you something else, other humans would call you dragons…do you want me to call you hona?" he asked, using the Draconic term for their own people.
"...Use 'dragon', is easier," Fathom sighed. "You show me next animal now?"
Pryce nodded and made himself comfortable. He spent the next few hours teaching Fathom about the Mainland's endemic species, all the while answering the dragon's many questions. On occasion Fathom would use these familiar creatures to describe those foreign to Pryce, and soon he had a sizable list describing animals native to Loahm.
Pryce was surprised to learn that some of these creatures were sources of pigment for dragons, who could change the color of their normally-grey hide by preying upon the correct species. Fathom himself preyed on 'blue lizards', a species of large reptilian creatures who were apparently quite difficult to hunt, and this difficulty made the color blue one of the most esteemed colors – second only to purple.
This pigment-absorbing capability was what allowed dragons to take on almost any color they desired, with the exception of black and white. Pryce was a bit confused by this, as melanin (a black pigment) was abundant in nature. It must have been some quirk of their biology, along with the fact that their scales and hide would begin to pale at around two hundred years of age. The specifics of this process varied from individual to individual, but once it began the average dragon would lose most of their color over the course of the next century or so.
As for Fathom himself, his interests seemed to lie in the largest, most formidable creatures of the Mainland such as the elephants. The dragon's questions seemed to revolve around how best to hunt such creatures, and he seemed disappointed when Pryce told him that no one was allowed to kill any elephants. Fathom also spoke approvingly of the more colorful animals on the Mainland, though also noted that most of the Mainland's creatures had "very little color".
As interesting as this conversation was, Pryce couldn't help but feel his eyelids growing increasingly heavy with each passing hour. It was a largely cloudless day, and the direct sunlight warmed his body, making him unbearably drowsy.
"Gharrum," Fathom said, nudging Pryce in the shoulder. "You sleep?"
"No, no," Pryce slurred, blinking in surprise. When had he fallen asleep? "Er…"
"You were talking about wolves."
"Oh, right," Pryce nodded. He continued with his summary of the textbook using words Fathom would understand, but he barely reached halfway through the entry before his eyes slid back shut.
"Gharrum?" Hironh asked, nudging Pryce again. This time the crafter did not wake, and instead he only snored lightly before slumping against Hironh's side. "Gharrum?" Hironh asked again, more loudly this time.
Pryce's only response was a faint wheezing snore.
Hironh poked him with a knuckle.
Still nothing.
Hironh stared, bewildered at this turn of events. What kind of fool fell into a deep-sleep so quickly, in broad daylight and next to a stranger? Could he be sick? Hironh wasn't familiar with crafter scent profiles, but from what he could tell Pryce still smelled to be healthy. It seemed he was simply just tired. Could it be that crafters needed more sleep than dragons? No, Pryce was perfectly fine the last two days, so it couldn't be that.
The crafter did seem upset when asked about his family, but was it enough to make him lose sleep? If Pryce was so aggrieved by the death of 'James', then he must have been a close friend indeed, or maybe even a partner, especially considering how Pryce had promised to take care of the child. Of course, Hironh was missing a lot of context, and his conclusion relied upon the very large assumption that humans didn't have some bizarre cultural rule that he wasn't yet aware of. Hironh may have learned much about the enigmatic crafters, but there was still much about them that he didn't understand in the slightest.
As the ones responsible for the creation of these artifacts, the crafters were naturally the subject of much speculation throughout recent dragon history, and interest in these mysterious beings had practically erupted with the discovery of the 'ghost ship'. With everyone and their hatchling having their own opinion on what the crafters were like. The ghost ship itself was enough to grant their craftsmanship a near-mythical level of status, but no one knew much about the crafters themselves. The skeletal remains found aboard the ship were their biggest clue, and most dragons agreed that the crafters were small, dexterous, and highly intelligent beings who worked together to create great things. That line of thought seemed to be more or less correct, but Hironh doubted that anyone came close to the full extent of the truth.
Perhaps it was because of the awe that their creations inspired, but it was difficult to find a single dragon who didn't hold the crafters in high regard, and Hironh was no different. In retrospect, this factor had greatly influenced his perception of the crafters as a whole, and Hironh was all the more surprised by how…unimpressive they were, to put it politely. Not their technology, of course – Hironh was still trying to process how cameras and satellites were even possible, but human anatomy was truly bizarre, and not in a good way. Their long fingers and highly mobile thumbs seemed to be the only thing that they really had going for them. Everything else left him wondering how their kind ever managed to survive before inventing sophisticated tools.
Even so, what surprised Hironh the most was their intelligence, or lack thereof. Pryce certainly wasn't stupid, and he'd demonstrated many clever ideas in order to communicate himself, but he was still a bit slow at times, and his memory was so bad that Hironh practically had to do all the learning himself. All in all, the human was nothing like what Hironh expected a crafter to be, and he wasn't sure how to feel about that.
Hironh sighed as he glanced up at the ship, which itself was another stunning proof of human capabilities. The ghost ship that had been discovered so long ago was made entirely of wood and nowhere near the size of this vessel, but the tremendous stockpile of treasures it contained was legendary, as well as the ensuing conflict over these alien valuables. Eventually he'd need to spread the news among the other dragons, and he could only imagine the severity of the resulting uproar.
The dragon paused his musing to stare down at the defenceless human, who continued his quiet snoring. It didn't feel right to fall asleep that quickly, even if he were exhausted…perhaps humans were oddly quick to trust? Hironh awkwardly glanced around as he considered whether or not to wake Pryce up, but in the end he curled around the sleeping human, deciding to let him rest.
Pryce awoke with a start, and he was immediately confused by the wall of blue that surrounded him.
"You are awake," Fathom said as he lifted his wing, briefly blinding Pryce.
"When did I fall asleep?" Pryce asked, rubbing his eyes. A glance up at the sky told him that quite some time had passed; Fathom must have decided to stay with him, though he wasn't sure why the dragon thought it was necessary to curl around him like a cat.
"About three hours ago," Fathom said, yawning as he raised his head. "Why you sleep here?" he asked, sounding faintly annoyed.
"Sorry," Pryce sheepishly apologized. "I was…tired."
Fathom cocked his head. "Sorry?"
"Ah, so-" Pryce coughed, cutting himself off. "Sorry is thing you say when you do bad thing."
"Mmm," Fathom rumbled neutrally. "You are not bad, but I confuse. Yesterday I make you sad?"
"Oh," Pryce said, scratching his head. "Yes. A little. But it is not bad that you want to know."
"Can you tell me more now?" Fathom asked, tilting his head interestedly.
"There is not much to tell," Pryce sighed, scratching his head. "James was my friend for a very long time. We met when we were little, and he was like a little brother to me."
"What is 'like' a little brother?" Fathom asked, cocking his head. "How can not-brother be 'like' a little brother?"
"Many human parents have more than one child. Brothers spend much time together, so brothers are like close friends."
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
"Mmm," Fathom rumbled. "Strange. Most dragon parents have one child. Brothers happen when mother make two eggs at same time, but brothers are very much not close friends."
"Humans different. Sometimes," Pryce felt compelled to add. "Important thing is James was very good friend. His family was my family."
"Understand," Fathom nodded. "Good friend is rare for dragons. Is same for humans?"
"Yes, it is," Pryce said, a little shakily. He abruptly realized that this was the first time he'd talked to anyone about this, and it was only these extenuating circumstances that made such conversations necessary. "…I need to tell you other things first. Five years ago a sickness killed many people." He paused as he stared down at his tightly clasped hands. "Different humans learn different things. I help humans heal, and I learn about cells, so I find how to kill bacteria that cause sickness."
"You cannot use antibiotic to kill bacteria?" Fathom asked, rumbling interrogatively.
"I find antibiotic before the start of sickness, but the antibiotic was still very hard to make," Pryce sighed, recalling the blur of sleepless nights he and his colleagues had spent desperately searching for a cure. "You know James had a son named Arthur, right? Three years after the sickness started…James's family got sick. Arthur got sick."
"...You did not make antibiotic before they die?" Fathom gently asked.
"No. I make it before they die."
Fathom blinked, then stared. "Then why…?"
Pryce paused for a moment to take a deep, fortifying breath. "I find it before they die, but they too sick. Antibiotic did not work, and Arthur…antibiotic was poison to Arthur."
"Poison?" Fathom drew his head back in confusion. "How can antibiotic help human, but be poison?"
"People are…different," Pryce sighed without raising his head. "Thing that is poison to one person is not poison to other person."
"Understand. One fruit is like this," Fathom nodded. "How many humans die from this sickness?"
"Over one million."
"Over one million?" Fathom abruptly drew his head back at this number, his pupils dilating in surprise. The sheer magnitude of death must have been shocking, considering that there were only ten thousand dragons in existence. "Then…many millions more humans die if you not make antibiotic?"
"...Yes. Probably. Sickness was…very bad," Pryce replied stiltedly.
"Then…you do very good thing," Fathom said uncertainly.
"Yes. I did."
They sat in silence for some time, with Fathom fidgeting every now and then in a restless manner. "I have family too," he said, after a considerable pause. "I tell you there are ten thousand dragons, yes? This is because the number of eggs is equal to number of dragons who die in previous year. When it is longest day of year, dragons go to see many others. To have egg, dragon need to win against others."
"Win? You need to fight other dragons?"
"Can fight, but can not fight too. Only need to win against others," Fathom shrugged. "What is word for thing that have winner and loser, but is not fight?"
"Competition," Pryce replied with a reasonable degree of certainty.
"Dragon must win competition to have egg," Fathom summarized. "Two-ten-one years ago I win competition and I meet my mate, Anvyr-ǂ. We make egg, and give hatchling name Anvonh-ǂ."
"Hatchling name…is half her name, half your name?"
"Yes. Is common thing to do for first hatchling," Fathom shrugged.
"Understand," Pryce nodded. It was a little strange, but not dissimilar from inheriting a surname. "Did you…like your mate?" he asked, feeling that a competition was a rather odd way to find a mate.
"I would not want to be mate with someone I did not like," Fathom said, tilting his head in confusion. "This is strange question. Why you ask this?"
"I mean…strong like," Pryce clarified. "Humans are supposed to like their mate very much, and it is rare for mates to stop being mates."
"What?" Fathom exclaimed. "Mates stop being mates after hatchling is adult. Some mates stay together and become friends or eekap, but that is rare."
"Eekap?" Pryce asked.
"Two dragons who want to be together for all of their years," Fathom explained. "Eekap is rare, and it is very very rare for eekap to stop being eekap. I am still confused by human mates. Human life is still longer than time for child to be adult…why are humans like this?"
"That is…complicated," Pryce frowned. To be perfectly honest he wasn't quite sure why human culture was the way that it was. He would need to ask a historian or an anthropologist to be certain, but it probably had something to do with land ownership and inheritances. "I will explain later – what happened with Anvyr and Anvonh?"
Fathom seemed more interested in continuing the topic of human behavior, but after a moment's pause he decided to continue his story. "For next three years, me and Anvyr-ǂ help protect and give food to Anvonh. One day, I hunt food, and I was hit by sky light – sky light is light thing in sky that is very loud," he added with a slight shudder.
"You were hit by lightning?"
"Yes. Lightning make me hit ground and break my wing." Fathom raised his left wing to show Pryce the malunion. "After wing break, I can not fly good like before. One year later, dragon named Ighen want to fight me. I win against Ighen before, so I say yes, but…I lose," Fathom admitted, his spines drooping shamefully.
"What…happen next?" Pryce asked, fearing the worst.
"Ighen make very bad wounds on me. Anvyr-ǂ decide to stop the fight, and Ighen left."
"Oh," Pryce said, unsure of what was so bad about that. "That is…good?"
"No," Fathom said, tossing his head gravely. "Ighen make scratch on Anvyr-ǂ when she stop fight. Scratch go bad, make her sick," Fathom said, his neck sagging in a crestfallen manner as he recounted the events. "She die one month later."
"She die from infection," Pryce realized. No wonder Fathom felt so strongly about disease, when it was what killed his mate. Since dragons believed infection to be caused by 'bad' things, then he had almost certainly blamed Ighen for her demise.
"I got sick too, but I heal," Fathom said in slow, measured tones. "Why did I heal, and Anvyr-ǂ did not?"
"Infection is…complicated," Pryce said, trying to explain this in a tactful manner. "If you get sick from bacteria before, your body remember how to fight that bacteria. It is harder for bacteria to make you sick next time. Maybe you got sick from this bacteria before, and Anvyr did not."
"...Or maybe bacteria go into Anvyr-ǂ wound from somewhere else," Fathom sighed. "Not from Ighen."
"That is maybe what happen, yes." Pryce paused, and added, "I am sorry your mate died."
"Why you sorry?" Fathom asked, drawing his head back in confusion. "You not here."
"...Is human thing. Say sorry when bad thing happen."
"That make no sense," Fathom snorted, flicking his flight membranes in disdain.
Pryce shrugged. "So…what happen with Anvonh?" he asked.
"I had wound from fight, and Anvyr-ǂ was very sick ten days after my fight. I and Anvonh-ǂ try to help Anvyr-ǂ, but she get more and more sick…when she die, we make fire for her."
"Funeral," Pryce said. "Burying dead person is funeral, but making fire for dead person is also funeral."
"Humans burn dead?" Fathom asked, a faint glint of curiosity shining through his dour mood.
"Yes. Sometimes humans burn dead, sometimes humans bury dead."
"Why you not burn crew?"
Pryce glanced away. "Too many bodies."
"Ah. Yes. Stupid question," Fathom said, tossing his head dismissively.
"Where…is Anvonh now?" Pryce cautiously asked, fearing the worst.
"She live with two other dragons now. Distance is one day away," Fathom replied forlornly.
Pryce was much relieved to hear that the child was fine, but Fathom seemed oddly dejected to relay this good news. "Is Anvonh…okay?"
"She is okay," Fathom replied shortly. He paused for a moment before elaborating, "After Anvyr-ǂ die, Anvonh live with me for three years. When she was seven years old she tell me she want to be strong and learn things from other dragons. I…could not stop her," the dragon said, lowering his head morosely.
"Do…most seven-year old dragons leave parents?"
"Adult is ten years old. Child can leave parents before this, but seven is…young. I think…she would not want to leave if I was…good parent," Fathom lowly rumbled. His already stumbling Murian had become even more broken with emotion, and as far as Pryce could tell his apparent 'failure' at being a parent seemed to weigh upon him as heavily as the death of his mate, despite the fact that Anvonh was alive and well.
"Understand," Pryce said, gently reaching out to pat the side of Fathom's neck. The dragon flinched a little in surprise, but made no move to pull away. "Will we go see her?" Pryce asked, pulling his hand away once an appropriate amount of time had passed.
"Yes, soon," Fathom nodded. "I not tell other dragons about you because we not have enough words. Will be more easy if I talk to other dragons later."
"Good idea," Pryce nodded. "When do you think I should see other dragons?"
"Two, three days?" Fathom shrugged. "We have many words now. I want to teach you things about…life?" the dragon trailed off, scratching his jaw. "Teach you how dragons live. I show you my home tomorrow, okay?"
"Your home? We go flying?" Pryce asked excitedly.
"Yes," Fathom said, as if this were plainly obvious. "I take you flying, go to my home. This is good, yes?"
"Yes, very good," Pryce said, wondering how he could secure himself to Fathom's back. He'd have to give it some thought later tonight, and ask for the dragon's feedback tomorrow. "How long do I stay in your home? What things should I take with me?"
"I will bring you here tomorrow night," Fathom said, gesturing towards the ship with a wing-thumb. "You not need take many things. Maybe camera?" Fathom paused, tilting his head. "Human eyes can not see dark things. My home is big hole in mountain, and is dark in some places. Human eyes and hearing are bad, you need lantern?"
"Big hole in mountain is 'cave', and yes, lantern is a good idea," Pryce nodded, adding it to his list of things to pack. "Do you want any human things? I can give them to you when we go tomorrow."
Fathom blinked, and his eyes darted to the ship before returning to Pryce. Then he opened his mouth and closed it several times, leading Pryce to suspect that he would have liked a great many things.
"Small things only," Pryce clarified.
"I want many things…but humans have many things that I do not know, and we will go away from my home and talk to others in future," Fathom begrudgingly replied. "It can not make sense if you give me things, because I need to give you things to carry."
"That is true," Pryce nodded. It wasn't as if Fathom had any pockets or pouches, so anything that he carried would have to be held in his foreclaws…which he needed to walk with.
"It is rude to receive things and not give," Fathom continued. "I do not have things you want, and I do not know things that will happen in future, but I help you, you give me things?"
"Yes, of c…I mean, yes. Can you tell me what you want, so I know about it?"
"Medicine," Fathom answered easily. "Other things are interesting, but medicine is most important thing." The dragon blinked, then narrowed his eyes. "Wait…you said antibiotic is poison to some humans. How you know antibiotic is not poison to me?"
"Er…antibiotic in ointment is very little," Pryce said, raising his hands placatingly. "If antibiotic was poison to you, then wound only itch a little."
"Hrrph," Fathom snorted, evidently not very reassured by this. "Okay. We read more book now?" he asked, turning his attention back to the textbooks.
"Yes," Pryce said, smiling faintly. "We can read more book."
I'm going flying
Day 25,
Tomorrow Fathom will show me his home, located in the nearby mountains. The ship has safety harnesses used for hull maintenance and repair, which I've repurposed into a makeshift 'flight harness'. I'm not sure if Fathom will agree to wear this, but I'm sure we'll be able to work something out.
Fathom's wing has continued to heal rapidly these past few days, and it should be fully healed in a few more. He's assured me that it doesn't significantly affect his ability to fly, and that carrying me wouldn't strain him either.
Fathom has been learning Murian for four entire days now, and we're beginning to have the words to talk about more complex concepts.
(See: notes regarding Fathom's personal history)
I've had no reason to share such personal matters with anyone before. Not since It is nice. Even if that person is a dragon.
I strongly suspect that intensive parental care is a requirement for the development of language, so Fathom's mention of parenthood came as no surprise. Still, it seems that a great deal of pride is placed upon the proper raising of a hatchling, and it is strange that mates don't seem to have strong emotional bonds with one another. Perhaps their long lifespan simply renders monogamy less sustainable over time.
That isn't to say that they don't have the concept of love – Fathom says that closely trusted individuals (something akin to 'friends') are more valued than mates, but 'eekap' are even closer than that. (I believe the term is best translated as 'spouse' or 'partner')
Much of today's progress involved Fathom teaching me about the native creatures of Loahm, which I have described below.
Note:
Hatchling: Newly hatched or infant dragon
Dragonet: Dragon equivalent of child or adolescent
Dragon: Adult
Raptor (Hexaped)
'Raptors' are creatures who resemble dinosaurian raptors. In addition to the usual four limbs, these raptors have two wings which are used for gliding and cover.
(3.0 - 3.5 meters long)
White tiger (Hexaped)
White tigers are formidable hexapedal predators who hunt in small packs. Only the leader of each pack is white in coloration, with all other members being brown and black. Apparently the leader uses their visible coloration to scare and herd prey towards their subordinates, which implies a good amount of intelligence.
(2.8 - 3.2 meters in length, minus tail).
Black tortoise (Hexaped)
Large black tortoises with shells 3-4 meters in diameter. They roam in large herds, and are filled with hydrogen.
Roc (Hexaped)
Large, 4-winged avians which come in various colors. The largest are vibrant red in color.
(Wingspan: 5.5-6.5 meters. Length: 3-3.5 meters)
Gryphon (Hexaped)
Feathered avians who run on four legs, and use their underdeveloped wings for maneuvering on the ground. Allegedly the fastest terrestrial creatures on Loahm.
(Length: 4-5 meters. Wingspan: 3-4 meters.)
Carapapes (Hexaped)
Creatures who bear a passing resemblance to apes, but possess an armored carapace upon their backs.
(Height, sitting: 1.5 meters)
Triceraphant (Hexaped)
After some deliberation I decided to name this creature a "three-horned arch", as it possesses three horns upon its face, while having a large bulky body.
(Length: 5-6 meters)
Mountain Stag [Placeholder name] (Hexaped)
A creature that – according to Fathom's description – resembles a six-legged deer which lives on the mountains. The males notably possess a great crown of horns upon their head, which they use to fight rival males.
Tree octopus (Invertebrate)
A bizarre creature that resembles an octopus, but adapted to live in trees. Tree octopuses are capable of active camouflage, and leap from the trees to ambush their prey with potent venom.
(Diameter: 0.75-1 meter)
Note: do not go into the forest alone.
Sources of pigments:
Red lizard (Hexaped)
As previously mentioned, a dragon's color is strongly affected by the pigments in their diet. These red lizards are a popular food item that allows them to adopt a red coloration.
(Length: 2 meters)
Blue lizard (Hexaped)
Similar to red lizards, blue lizards are reptilians that give dragons their blue color. These creatures live in burrows and can be difficult to hunt without proper techniques.
(Length: 2 meters)
Yellowfish (Tetrapod)
A large fish that is a popular source of yellow pigmentation.
(Length: 1-2 meters)
Greenfruit (Plant)
A green, relatively unappetizing fruit which is a source of green pigmentation.
Note: Fathom spoke of green colors with disdain. Apparently, the ease with which these colors can be obtained renders them unimpressive.
Some distance away, a dull red dragon vigilantly surveyed the skies above Hironh's territory.
Ighen had watched these lands for the last several days, and in that time he hadn't caught Hironh flying at all. There was a chance he simply hadn't been able to see the other dragon, as he couldn't risk a position that gave him a line of sight to Hironh's home, but it was odd that Hironh hadn't gone flying at all. Very odd. Could his injuries from their last fight have finally killed him?
Ighen shook his head, discarding that hopeful fantasy. It was far more likely that Hironh was recovering from another challenge, or perhaps he was just being lazy.
The red dragon glanced up at the sky, his eyes narrowed in thought. He could go now, challenge Hironh while he might be weak, but…the tightness in his chest ultimately stayed his talons. One – no, two more days. He would wait two more days for his wounds to finish recovering.
And then he would challenge Hironh, one last time.