Zai’s Roving Puss-in-Boots Brown Puizuth

Baltic Sea Egg

Midnight blue and smudged green simmer over the shell of this fair-sized egg, its translucence nearly disguising furrows and cracks that might give the impression of unruly waves roaring and breaking on the sandy, salty shore. Bubbles roil and rise abouta twisted square of green at one rounded end: a small splotch of island surrounded by deep sea blue.

Hatching Message

Baltic Sea Egg lays still a second, gathering itself for one last mighty wave against the barrier of the shell preventing it from washingover the sands. The rocky barrier cracks, the top cracking and falling to the side. Over the jagged ridge created by the last heave, a silvered nose appears, like froth at the top of this green and blue wave. It lingers there a moment, just hanging as ifin eternity, before the egg slowly tumbles to its side, spilling forth Roving Puss-in-Boots Brown Dragonet.

Roving Puss-in-Boots Brown Dragonet

A taste of avaricious gold hunts rubies throughout this grimalkin's hide: bright colors pad along his sweeping wingspars, curl about eyeridges 'knobs, and prowl the salient ridges of his lithe and sturdy spine. Softer aciculate tendrils of silver whisker his narrow face and lighten the variegated browns creaming his neck and rump, while spokes of dried grass careen amongst the autumn-hues of scarlet, ocher, and green at play over his shoulders and back. The short barrel of his chest is tabbied in alternating stripes of beer and ale, while bearnaise smothers his expressive tail down to its spatulate fork. But it is a fastidious line of seal's dark-brown that boots those sleek legs and coats each dainty, cheliferous paw. No ogre is he, no brutish tom, for despite his great size and tensile violin-string strength, indolence luxuriates along every roving curve.

Public Impression Pose

Roving Puss-in-Boots Brown Dragonet sees his chance and slinks forward hastily. Just a little bit out of line with the others, perhaps they danced the Sand-dance away from her or she danced the Sand-dance away from him. Pussy-footing around the other, not-his candidates, he soaks in her sienna hair and her eyes, light like him. Come to the castle I've gotten just for you.

Private Impression Message

Now that he's found you, he doesn't hesitate about possessing you one second. Burstingthrough whatever stuff your thoughts are made of in a flurry of bright confetti, he pounces, sinking sharp little claws into you for a split-second, before he is content to settle possessively around you like a furry mind warmer. « Did you miss me? » he asks insistently a nanosecond later, « My name's Puizuth and I've missed you my whole entire life. »

Zali! Zai! Can we tell you how glad we are that we snagged you? You're the niftiest thing since sliced bread, the coolest thing since glaciers swept over the planet, and the sweetest thing since chocolate. We swoon for you, and hope that you enjoy Puizuth as much as we've enjoyed (and will enjoy) you. :D

Egg Inspiration

Keris wrote the desc to this egg in a bout of national pride, as he lives on an island in the egg’s namesake. He also thinks it’s really pretty. We thought we’d let you know the origin of this egg.

Theme Inspiration

Puss in Boots was a French fairy tale put to words by the author Charles Perrault. The whole story can be found at,
but here’s a short summary.

There was a poor miller, who when he died, had his possessions divided up among his three sons. The youngest got stuck (or so he thought) with a cat. He was despairing when his cat told him, “Don’t worry. Just give me a bag and some boots to walk in the forest and I’ll take care of you.”

The master thought this was very odd, but he did as the cat bid. Whereupon Master Puss used the bag to catch all manner of game, which he then presented to the king of the realm as a gift from his master, whom he called the Marquis of Carabas.

After a while or so of this, one day the cat told his master to go and bathe in the river. While his master was doing so, the cat hid away his clothes. When, as the cat had predicted, the king’s carriage came rolling by, Master Puss ran out crying, “Help! My master the Marquis of Carabas has been beset by robbers and is drowning!”

The king, having received much from the Marquis of Carabas, went as once to the young man’s aid.Finding he had no clothes, he offered a suit from his own royal wardrobe and bade him ride in the carriage with himself and his daughter. The cat invited the people to dine at his master’s castle.

While garnering a seeming fortune in the words of mowers and harvesters as he went, Master Puss trotted along the road until he came to a huge castle. This castle was the property of a large ogre. Knocking on the door, Master Puss requested an interview with the giant. Tricking the ogre to change shapes into a mouse, the cat promptly caught and ate the monster. Just in time, for the king’s carriage rolled right on in. The cat ran out to greet them, and led them to a feast laid out for the ogre, which did very well for the king. Having seen the prosperity of the young man Master Puss called master, the king consented to give her hand in marriage. And Puss never hunted mice again except for sport.

“The naming of cats is a difficult matter.”
“Naming of Cats” Cats

Name Inspiration

The name Puizuth (I pronounce it “PWEE-zuth,” but you get to pronounce it anyway you like) is derived from the word cat. That is, cat in Lithuanian, Puize. The ‘u’ replaced the ‘e’ with the name Zurvan, who was a Persian god of infinite time and space, which seemed appropriate for a dragon, who does seem to take up infinite space when you’re the one oiling him. ;)

Oh, holy Cat! Your head is the head of the God of Sun, your nose is the nose of Thoth, who is thrice more majestic than Hermopolis. Your ears are the ears of Osiris who can hear the voicesof those who mention him. Your mouth is the mouth of Ammut, the master of life who protect you from dirt. Your heart is the heart of Fut.


Puizuth’s mindvoice is an experience based on sound. There may be colors and images, as well as feelings and scents, but the majority of his communication is through noise. Not all of it is definable as speech, for one would not call firelizard chirps speech, nor the exotic sounds of the Neratian and Istan rainforests, nor the squalls and lows of the herds in the Weyr bowl.

He speaks to you in these sounds, in the beginning ending up having to explain it in words, but eventually, it will be so that you can tell what he means by what he says in pictures and sounds. When he does speak to you, it is with thevoice of a mature student, mature, but always with a hint of the ‘Why?’ of earlier edging into it. The tiniest French accent manifests itself in the manner in which Puizuth rolls his ‘r’s and ends his words as if through his nose.

To other dragons, his voice takes on a more materialistic edge, harking back to his acquisitive bent. Instead of the soft, vague ‘Why?’ a metallic taste bites any statement made by him.


Puizuth is not much of one for scented mindvoices, but beyond his conscious statements, there’s always the presence of him, diffused throughout your mind. The sweet smell of caramelized onions dominates, though tarragon and shallots spice the concoction up. And when Puizuth is in sleep, a twang of wine sauce drifts in and out of the consciousness.


Puizuth, to sum him up in one word, is small. A grimalkin is, according to the dictionary, a cat. Takethat into account with his size; in comparison with bears, wild things, and sea monsters, your little Puizuth is tiny. Yes, a couple of the largest blues in the Weyr can stretch wings with him and match him length for length. While his wingspan is great in proportion to his body and limbs, his neck and tail are short and thick, giving him a squat look on the ground. In the air, the effect is minimized. That rounded little tail is quite expressive, though, twitching, shivering, always mirroring the emotionseen in his eyes.

~See the cat of the clouds, lapping on high
~ With flashing tongue the moon-milk from the sky.
~From Sanskrit poem by Yogesvara~

His size gives him the expected advantage of greater agility over his bigger brethren; however, it also has the expected downfall of less endurance than the average brown. He can fight through an entire Fall – barely. And right after, you’d better have a couch ready. He’ll wake up a good twenty four hours after just conking out on the first available surface.

Throughout the story on which Puizuth is based, Puss is constantly acquiring. Here the goods become assimilated into his hide. The field brown of rabbits hides in the dried grass and autumn leaves with the jewel-bright colors of pheasants. He’ll want those colorful flashes on his shoulders and back to always be clean, lending brilliant color to his every step. The traces of gold, silver, and rubies come from a picture that I’ve seen of Puss, decorated as his office suited; they are parts of the riches he acquires with the giant’s home and the wedding gifts of the king.

In an introduction to a book of French fairy-tales, it is said that nobody knows how to include food in their stories likethe French. From children broiled in piquant sauce to fly tarts, food is an ever-present part of these tales. So of course, some part of your brown had to be smothered in béarnaise, a yellow sauce made from egg yolks, butter, cream, wine, tarragon, and shallots, and it ended up being his bluntly rounded (that’s what ‘spatulate’ means) tail.

Puizuth is a light, variegated brown, just as you asked. Apart from his booted feet, the colors range from cream to amber; whatever brown in that range you can think of, it can be found in some small spot on him. But those booted feet will be his pride and joy. « Look… None of our clutchmates have such a clean line between darkness and light… Don’t let the dust mar it! » Those feet will be spick and span. But in cleaning those feet, you, and only you, may notice that on the thick soles, a spattering of lighter brown, as of dried mud, freckles the pads of the bottoms of his feet. Other special spots include: the very tip of his pert chin, not so much itchy as just verysatisfying to scratch; where gold touches his hide, he is very sensitive, recoiling from all but the softest brushes and requiring oil most often.

Puizuth has a great deal of energy bundled inside of him for one so small, the tensile violin-strings (or ‘catgut’ ;-) releasing with short bursts of great power. In mating flights, Puizuth can use that zippy energy to match a green move for agile move, or extend it out as if in Fall for that un-maneuverable but powerful queen. It must be said, though, that any queen Puizuth is going to catch is going to have a short flight, unless Puizuth keeps his wits about him and tries his wiles on her, for Puizuth is a sprinter of dragonkind, while queens are generally the cross-country runners. Sprinters quickly overtake the long-distance runners, but they rarely keep the lead as they tire and lag behind. Of course, pure brute strength never was Puizuth’s alley anyways. He’s much more likely to use thermals to the absolute effectiveness and efficiency they can give, never wasting an ounce of his precious energy.


Your Puizuth is a versatile little dragon, aspects of kitten, unmerciful entrepreneur, brave and quick-witted ogre slayer, and indulged hero showing through in his personality.

He has a sort of wide-eyed curiosity about his surroundings: « So this is the Weyr lake. » He won’t stop at just identifying major landmarks of the Weyr, though; Puizuth will go over positively every inch on foot, sticking his nose into places wherever he can and sending you, Zai, into those places where he just doesn’t fit, requiring that you draw it in his mind with all the detail of a visualization for Between. This will be stored away, basically, as a map. Puizuth will be your walking, talking map – though by the time he’s been everywhere in the Weyr, you should know where you’re going. But say you go to Keroon on Weyr business. By the end of the day, when you come inside, Puizuth will direct you to the beach, the herderhall, the gardens, the island in the middle of the river and whatever else is about.

Puizuth is an acquisitive dragon; he especially likes collecting things he thinks you’ll find pretty or interesting. This will go to the extent of selecting the color herdbeast he likes and killing it without mangling it too badly, and then the gift of the carcass to you, with the injunction, « Now you just trot up to the Weavers and get a jacket made out of him. » Anything his dragon-petite claws will grasp, he might take. Perhaps a hunk of rock with pretty banded colors will greet you in your weyr one day. Or a bag of squash from the tithe train, « Aren’t they so very interesting? They curve this way and that… » The possibilities are endless.

~And because of the cat's loyalty, and the dog's jealous vindictiveness, the Chief of the tribe uttered these words: "From this day on cat, you shall sleep inside upon my finest mats, while you, dog, shall continue to sleep out of doors upon the dust of the earth. And when the time comes that we feast, O cat, thou shall eat of the same food as we, being a worthy and noble being. But you, dog, shall learn to be content and satisfied with what scraps we choose to toss you."~

Puizuth is one of those cynical dragons, quick of wit and happy to use it on his slower brethren to his and your advantage. « But, Stupidth, I’ll give you my three herdbeasts for your two wherries. Think of all of the extra meat to fill your belly. » Of course, he’ll fail to mention the fact that he’s selected the three scrawniest herdbeasts in the bunch and wants Stupidth’s juicy plains wherries.

He’ll advise you too. « Psst, Zai! Soandsoth informs me that the man you’re talking to has a proddy gold firelizard. Tell him you’ll give him a bigger firelizard clutch in return for one egg. We’ll get those wild green clutches down at Ista! And you- or whoever you want- can have a gold… »
Firelizards are one of those things that fascinate him. When he’s bored and you’re in one of those stupid weyrling classes instead of playing with him, he’ll just sit and watch them dart about. Try to communicate with them, too. In the back of your mind, strange garblings of the sounds ‘lizards make might be heard, as he ‘talks’ to them, « Chirp, cheep…Croon. Squeak! Chirple. Squawk! » Firelizards, in turn, are generally amiable to Puizuth, though they can’t really get over the fact that he’s so much bigger than them. Of course, there’s no accounting for all firelizards.

~There are chests of gold within all the burial mounds, but mind the cats that guard them.
-Old Irish Proverb~

Puizuth takes great pleasure in conning just about everyone and everything he can. He’ll never ever try to trick you, though, Zai. He’s as loyal to you as can be, though it might sometimes be hard to tell, when after you’ve poured your heart out about how you absolutely hate B’lah and hope he falls into the latrines, or pointed out a nice greenrider and expounded about him, or just whined about life in general (it’s nice to do so sometimes, we admit), and you ask his opinion and he suddenly pays attention. « Would you mind repeating the last dozen or so sentences? » « Say again? » « You were talking to me? » Don’t get him wrong though; more than likely you just interrupted his latest scheme to please you. Puizuth is full of those schemes, whether it’s to wake you up early in the morning to go watch the dawn in the mountains, or to take you for a surprise visit to your old Hall to see old friends, or to beat up the boy who teased Zai the day before. It’s always something, and there’s nothing he loves more than to see a delighted look on your face when you see what he’s done for you. But there’s nothing Puizuth hates more than to see a plan fail and fall to the dirt and get squashed in the dust by the laughs he imagines. At those times, he’ll go off and sulk for a while, eventually insisting on a good scrubbing by you in the lake for composure. Same thing when he’s been scored by Thread, once it’s been treated. Puizuth is not one to take failing very well.

~Better to feed a single cat than an army of mice.
~ Norwegian Proverb.~

Which is why, certainly, he throws himself into planning and training – so he won’t fail. Planning, retrieving betweening coordinates from other dragons, making sure you don’t realize what’s coming for you, in terms of his little surprises; flaming each practice Thread to a crisp, being assiduous in wing exercises, making sure he’s perfect. It won’t be surprising if he keeps tally with all of the other dragons, « Ooo! I’ve been marked! Woe! But Sendakth has four, and Babarth three, so I’m still ahead. Zai, don’t let me get hit again! »

~It seems that a witch decided to one day invite herself into a house that happened to be filled with people. Upon entering this house the witch began to dance around while muttering bizarre incantations, much to the chagrin of all who were present. All at once, the people found themselves transported onto a sleigh drawn by a giant magical cat. This mysterious cat pulled the sleigh at fantastic speeds until it finally came to "Pohjola", a place where evil resides in everlasting night, located deep within the hinterlands of Finland.~


He’s much the same in a flight; most of the thrill in mating flights for him is in the chase, in his chance to prove himself better than all of the rest. It is with this objective that he enters flights. If he wins, it will be as much as he expect of himself to be for you, but if he loses, he sulks badly. After the first flight he loses, he’ll have to be pushed into any other flights, for his fear of losing and then letting you down is great. But once you advise him, and give him the nudge he needs to get him into flight, he is Puizuth, master of the air, commanding of the glittering beauties above him, leaving Zai behind with thetempest of his other thoughts and feelings, secondary to the competitiveness he feels. It is you who ends up holding most of the confusing emotional whirlwind that he leaves behind, taking it back only as he twines necks with the object of his flight. And that’s that, once the flight is gone. No waking up in a strange weyr in the morning, no baggage. He’s caught her and that’s all there is to it. In the case of a gold, it’ll be hard roping him down to the Sands to keep the queen company.

As much as he dislikes losing, he rarely ever does, or so you might assure him. Once he knows that he’s done it, he’ll relax, and let you congratulate him. He’ll consent to a full oiling, and sprawl on his ledge and sun, looking the laziest dragon in the weyr, especially as he’s so sleek as to look nearly chubby, when in actuality he never lost the slight, thin film of extra, luxurious flesh he took from the egg.


Name: Geko & SearchCo
Egg Desc: Keris with D'renn tweaks
Dragonet Desc: Geko with Nuff tweaks
Messages: Geko
Inspiration: Geko & Nuff
Puppeteer: Geko

Fye & blue Lainnoth, Auri & green Miravith,
Shawn & brown Orsoth, Pyrene & gold Cadgwith, Lyri & green Niamhyth,
Daeyn & brown Anwyllth, R'gis & green Peorth

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