L'shil's Sparky Firebug Brown Piccath
You can't help respektin' anibody who kin spell Tiareth, even if she doesn't spell it rite.
—Winne the Nuff

Vanilla Frosting Egg

Snowy white flows over the length of this oblong egg, rippling like fine
vanilla frosting when the light hits it just right. It seems almost a curved
cake, bedecked and garlanded, fit for any Holder's fantasy there frozen in
time.

Hatching Message

Vanilla Frosting Egg melts. The devious layer of sweet white shell simply
sloughs from the sudden explosion of wings and body that /is/ the arriving
dragonet. A flash of pepper, a glimpse of goo-wet hide, and with a shake of
his wings a spark is born.

Sparky Firebug Brown Dragonet

The piquant zip of spiced sienna zings along the quirky, compact build of
this brick-brown dragonet, his stubby wings and short-coupled body built for
barnstorming, not gliding flight. Copper rivets his poppy-peppered hide all
along the ranks of 'ridges that march down his foreshortened neck and back,
and those rusty motes also festoon the jiggery-pokery of his mettlesome
muzzle. Thick-muscled, his abbreviated tail is a spitfire's guiding rudder
to the intrepid irascibility that illuminates the spangled swirl of wide-set
eyes.

Private Impression Message

Never mind the amateur dramatics, Sparky Firebug Brown
invades your mind with no pomp, no circumstance, just a sudden, impromptu
fiesta of bright colours, bright lights, and half-a-dozen Roman candles all
going off at the once. « Leshil! It's me! Piccath! Where's the food? »


Leshil! :D Mmmmm. Leshil. From the start — the very beginning of time — back before there was such thing as a dragon, there was Mmmmm… Leshil. Selfishly we hope you will continue to delight us with your friendship, creativity, and fun.


Name Inspiration

Piccath the Firestarter. Piccath has two meanings: it comes from the
Italian word 'piccolo,' meaning small, and from the Italian 'piccante,'
meaning hot and spicy. Pica is also the name given to those adorably cute
gopher-like animals the live in the high alpine and ‘squeak’ warning when
anyone dare enter there territory: heads pop up, paws drawn in to chest,
nose scenting the air. And they go — Pi! Pi! Pikah, Pikah. Tracking the
intruders.

Scent

Swift, certain and on course, Piccath smells of fire and a whole
variety of peppery spices, mostly the kind that make you sneeze (cause
Piccath can get up your nose sometimes): cumin and cedar hearthfire with
you, black pepper and bonfire with others, nutmeg and candle flame when he's
sleeping. But most of the time, he just smells of the sweet tang of cloves
and burning pine, not smokey or dirty or acrid, just the clear, sweet scent
of crisp forest set ablaze against the setting sun to provide a scent so
distinctive you could almost taste him.

Mindvoice

The same clarity that soothes this demon's rumbling tenor,
drapes it in suprisingly crisp colors in semi-precious metals and river-worn
stone. He's colourful; full of zippy reds and oranges and other warm hues,
all light and vibrant, darker tinges might seep through somewhat when he's
downhearted. Still, even then, he retains the pizzazz of his more optimistic
mind-shades; he's never truly morose. Out loud he rarely makes much noise,
but his mind is always alive and alight with the flavor of fire and spice as
he uses both to investigate all that he sees and hears, be that in the real
world, or the world of dragon-kind. There's a certain spiritual forebearance
in saffron's touch and the sleepy hint of incense as, with you, Piccath
seeks to spark new awareness - new ideas - new friendships. As far as the
actual /sound/ of him, he's baritone: more tenor than bass, with a goofy
sort of catch to his voice - a bit like John Travolta in 'Grease'. Eternally
adolescent, voice-wise, at any rate.

Physicalities

If we were to pick one word to define Piccath, it would be /style/. Not in
the fashionable, mainstream sort of way; not in the least. Piccath is all
ecclectic flair, inimitable; one of a kind. But then again he's found a
kindred spirit in you, hasn't he? Two of a kind, then. Like you, it'll take
him a while though to grow into his full potential. Adolescence is going to
be as confusing and awkward for him as it has been for you, Lesh. He'll need
to lean on you a bit as he grows too, even as you lean on him. Once he makes
it through those first couple of gawky years though, there'll be no stopping
him.

To start with, though, he will have a lot of bother. What with the powerful
muscles he's got on that short, compact frame, he's going to have to learn
some control; learn to realise his own strength. During that learning
process, he's going to break things. A lot. (Though hopefully, with luck,
he'll not do himself any damage.) Still, in ground drills he may decide to
see how fast he can run: galumph, galumph, galumph *CRASH*. There goes the
east fence at the feeding pens. Or coming in for a landing, he'll
under-estimate the speed he's going at and hit the ground in true albatross
fashion, double-somersault and all. Pick /soft/ landing spots for his first
turn of flight. Lucky enough he's a sturdy wee thing.

Clumsiness is something that will plague him during his weyrlinghood. It'll
take him a while to work out a safe turning radius. That tail, though short,
will especially cause trouble — he'll turn around a bit too sharpish and
oops! There goes the table with all the hides on it. And wings too - all
those sticky-outie bits, really. One little wing-flick, and « Sorry! »
There goes the morning meal. But clumsiness is something he will grow out of
- never worry. He'll probably get over it faster, too, than some of his
clutchmates. Settling down at round about 30 metres in length - he'll be
just barely brown-sized - but plenty big enough for anything that matters.
Then while his mates are still growing into larger frames, longer wings,
bigger feet, he'll be zipping circles round them all.

Once he works out those nifty wings, he'll be unstoppable. He's a fly-by
nut, and boy! Does he ever love to buzz the bowl. Any Lords and Ladies
visiting? Zzzzzooooom. Best hope they've got fast reflexes. He'll be
everybody's favourite in the spring what with all the ankle-deep mud we get
in the bowl - diving for cover won't be the most pleasant of experiences,
and you'll probably get stuck making a lot of apologies, Lesh. But dang it,
it's just so much fun! Zzzzzzzoooooooom!

Colour-wise, he's a zingy reddish-brown, bright and peppery and full of
panache. If he were a car, he'd be a bright shiny red Volkswagen Beetle:
small and compact, sure, but also completely distinctive - there's nothing
else that even comes close to being similar. But underneath all the flash
and palaver, there's also that famous Volkswagen reliability. Piccath is
someone you can count on to be there for you til the very end. Just like the
old VW slogan: 'If only everything in life was as reliable as a Piccath.'
Ah, if only.

Personality

He's all zest and fizz and putt-putt bluster; a spitfire: small, zippy and
flashy. He's a confident dragon, happy and content with himself, who can
encourage you, Leshil, to be who you are, what you are, and be happy with
that. It doesn't matter if you, or he, don't have all the answers to life,
the universe and everything, because even if the pair of you sat on a
mountaintop, dutifully meditating your whole lives long, you'd never work it
all out anyway. Better, then, to just do, to just be (or, as ol' Blue Eyes
put it, Doobedoobedoo), rather than ponder that existence.

He's a pepper-pot - small, but containing something with a very very big
taste to it and plenty of fire. But that fire doesn't really translate into
orneriness; he's not mean or nasty - he's too upbeat for that. When he does
get annoyed, he's boisterous bluster more than anything. Plenty of bark, but
never mind the bite. Life's too short to make enemies. Plenty of putt-putt
spluttering then, which makes him nearly as verbose as yourself, Leshil.
That may be one area the pair of you conflict in at the beginning - what
with both of you trying to get all those words in edgewise. But give it a
couple of turns and you'll be finishing each others' sentences. Since you
can both see all the thoughts behind the words anyway, your conversations
should get mighty interesting… "Hey Piccath, you remember the…" « Who
ate the… » "Yeah, and the other thing that…" « And gooey. »

Reliability is pretty much inherent to the dragon/rider bond, but in
Piccath's case, it goes further than just that connection. Oh he loves to
zip and zoom and make eccentric observations on his mad-cap gallop through
life « Hey L'shil! Nuff wears purple underpants! » He knows. He checked.
(He would.) But he's also able to set all that aside and just /listen/ when
you need him to. There's a lot more depth to him than you might think. He
may even surprise you with some of his insights. After all, he's not just
checking out the colour of the Weyrwoman's knickers, he's also observing a
lot about life as he goes along. Of course he'll never remember it all - not
with his memory anyway - but he can tell you, and sure you can remember it
for him.

As far as other dragons are concerned, he's reasonably gregarious, though
not overly so. He's not the life and soul of the party - that's too
attention-hogging for him. He likes to be in the thick of things, sure, but
he likes plenty of others in there with him. More friendly, that way. He's
very approachable as well, though of course he'll have his special mates.
Especially among the lads; he's a wee bit leery of those females. (They
think all funny, y'see.)

Where flights are concerned, he's more a green-man than a gold-lover.
Nothing against the colour, of course, it's just a bit more difficult for
him to keep up. He might chase a smallish one, or one going up for her first
flight, but he knows what he is; he knows he's smaller than the others, and
he doesn't mind missing out. After all, those greens are fun! Zippy,
acrobatic greens. Hoo boy. They'll put him through his paces too, but that's
where he'll really shine. He's the perfect size and shape for all manner of
aereobatics; so what if she does a triple loop-de-loop with a barrel-roll
twist at the end? Anything she can do he can do too.

Piccath isn't complicated, Lesh, but then he's not really simple either.
There's a depth here that, despite his clarity of thought and eventual
controlled motion gets murky down near the bottom where only you can go.
This is where he goes to hide, to curl up, to dampen the fires and bank the
ashes, and invite you and those closest to you in to visit. This is his
special place, that tastes of good memories and forgotten laughter, and has
shadows that merely resonant the absolute stillness and tranquility of being
nothing but himself. This is also where he goes to hide when he's hurt - or
you're hurt. And like turtle withdrawing into his shell, or a Pika back down
into her hole, its nigh impossible to get him to come out until he wants to.

This is one dragon who wants to /know/, though he doesn't always ask about
it. There are times when he gets that whirly-swirly hearth-fire hues in his
eyes that just melt your heart, even when you haven't any idea what it is
he's thinking about, and he's not sharing. Of course he also hates it when
you with draw into yourself without him. Usually he won't dare to follow,
but will wait, outside the gates of your mind, trying not to look so
absolutely heart-tuggingly mournful till you come out again, or invite him
in. He respects your privacy, but that doesn't mean he likes it.

He does, however, like other dragons. Other people. Other animals of all
kinds even if some of there are just fun to land on.

He's neither a mentor, nor an overpowering force of nature, nor even a
'soulmate' really. Piccath is perhaps a wee bit of all of the above. He's
the best friend you've always wanted, one who will listen to all your worst
night-time fears and soothe them with one well-chosen word, who will help
you catch frogs to stick down the girls' blouses, and then, in time, will
help you impress them in other ways too. Piccath can teach you to simply be
who you are, without worrying whether it's 'right' or not - to give you that
extra bit of oomph to step out into the front row - not as any sort of hyper
attention-seeker - but just to stand up and be counted as every bit an equal
to the riders who have gone before. But don't ever forget that he needs you
too. However much you may depend on him, he'd be lost without you. You are
the centre of his whole world. A big responsibility, perhaps, but Oh! The
times you'll have!

Credits

Name: Catia and Saoirse
Egg Desc: Bakercraft
Dragonet Desc: Saoirse; B'ran, Catia, and Jh'ral tweak
Messages: ?
Puppeteer: ?
Inspiration: Aife, Ash, B'ran, Catia, Nuff & Saoirse

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