E'ren's Spitfire Rosemary Green Xeth
When you go after cookies with a balloon, the great thing is not to let the bees know you're coming.
- Winnie the Nuff.

Icy Comet Egg

Rough edges line the shadowy crevasses of this oddly-shaped, bulky egg, resembling nothing so much as a malformed chunk of ice. Sand and grit cling to its sides in tan- and grey-peppered uniformity, tracing along its rock-like form a wobbly, thick line like a tail.

Spitfire Rosemary Green Dragonet

This scrawny sprig of a dragonet is pungently pressed with rosemary's hue to mark her sharp-flavored, sharp-minded: she's a dusky, dusty green from the narrow slope of muzzle back along every slim inch of her sylph's frame. The same silver that showcases tail's every motion lines the underside of full, delicate wings and sparks mischief in her gaze; her dark side hints in the near-black that needles talons and neckridges with prickly, peppery bite.

Private Impression Message

There was no warning, and what would you have done with one if there was? She /blasts/ into your mind with hot, spiced flare, the kind of heat that doesn't catch you until a few seconds later, and then /everything's/ afire. Green here, green there, green everywhere; she likes green, and crushes rosemary's sharp flavor all through your thoughts, there to stay. «Congratulations! I am Xeth! But you know this. Look, is it not /wonderful/?» And, hey.. it is.

Sefren! It was a delight to have you as a candidate: active, rp-happy, creative, amusing, and just all around interesting. We look forward to you and weyrlinghood, and High Reaches Riding with you and Xeth!

Name Inspiration

Xeth! Your pick! Which we all liked too, so we gave her to you. Also sounds sort of akin to 'zest', and she's got that: zest, flare, and a special style that's all her own.


Green! Green, green, green. It is the best of all hues, after all, and it swirls on just the outside of sight when she speaks. Speech - think Zsa-zsa Gabor turned dragon. Her voice is low without being husky, sultry without being overtly sexual. She nearly /purrs/, in the lower ranges, and it can be enough to set your brain to vibrating:

« E'rrrrrrren. I Itch. —No, no, you do not understand, I do not itch, I Itch. »

Yes, her voice is delightfully dark and low, tangy with rosemary at normal times, shading to sage when she's particularly sated and content, but velvet-darkened and more peppery when agitated, nearing acidic. At those times, you don't want to be on the wrong end of her tongue, but it may find you anyway.


Fresh off the spice rack, Xeth's got a special /clean/ scent to her vaguely reminiscent of dried herbs. Parsely, sage, rosemary, thyme! Strong if you were to eat them all, but from hide it's a subtler sensation, one that tickles your nose and your tongue without being invasive or overpowering. A delicate potpourri that's easy on the senses and makes you want to just linger around with her.


Ever seen a sprig of rosemary? Xeth's fashioned after that, all narrow and spiky and, in the beginning anyway, a little gawky. Not Piccath-clumsy or Trebinth-sure, she'll develop her own special balance in time, her steadying gait accompanied by the rustle of her wingsails.

In hue she's a dusty herbal green that wouldn't be much to look at, really, if it didn't cover Xeth, kind of dim and dull and brittle; even after oiling she's not going to glow all that much - except for the silver. It coats the undersides of her caped wings and runs in hints all along her tail and she'll take easily to flashing those appendages around, just so everyone knows it's her. A flash of tail, a fluttering of wings, all are made just that much more noticeable with silver's glintings, and hey, sometimes a girl just needs to be noticed. When agitated, that silver glinting is a beacon: keep clear, keep cautious, Xeth is on the warpath.

As she grows, she will require oilings even more than the other dragonets do, simply because her hide is more Itchy. Her shoulderblades and haunches are most needy in that regard, and she'll want them specially tended. But as she fills out and her scrawny build becomes lithe and fully-fleshed, she'll only request special treatments when she desires some attention, and that's how you'll know you've been /very/ busy lately: ** You will rub my shoulders, yes? They Itch, they do. **

She'll grow into quite the lady; if not especially large, still long and thin and loosely limbed. In flight, she's got a green's signature speed but a scheming mind that is all Xeth - spectacular in Threadfall, in mating flights she's the dare-devil diver, swooping low again and again and threatening to leave her suitors sucking snow.. and the less agile ones will be. Even though she's thinly framed, she's strong and will outlast the more average among those that follow; he who wins must be quick-minded to catch her, brute force and liquid loops alone won't do the trick.


Know you Boris and Natasha? Then you know Xeth, for she's elements of Natasha in and throughout her sometimes infathomable nature. She's got a plan, a grand, grand scheme - just she hasn't let you in on it. Maybe she will /never/ let you in on it.

When she's young, though, there are times her plots bubble to the surface. She hasn't learned control, yet, nor has she explored her limits, so it is entirely possible for her to rise early one morning, to to the entrance of the barracks, spread those silver shot wings wide:

« Today, we conquer the world! It must be done. And we will do it - come, /come/ E'ren! »

Just by the time you crawl out of your furs, rub the sleep from your eyes, pull on your boots and stagger out to join her, she's fallen asleep again in the middle of the archway. She's like that, early on; eager but fickle, she flits from plan to plan like a bee visits flowers. This morning it's conquering the world, this afternoon it's tricking Trebinth into turning over the oil barrel. Later on it's catching the sun shining off the bright undersides of her wings and tilting the glare into Ash's face, ** I can make her /squint/. **

But it would be no fun without a sidekick and confidante, and you are hers, whether you are party to her schemes or dead-set against them. She'll seek your approval on some of her craftier endevours with a smug, sage-dry, ** Watch this. He will try to stand on his tail, now. ** Look, look, look what I did. Heheheheheheheeee.

She's still capable of experiencing wonder, though-manifested through an odd fondness for the layers upon layers of snow that the 'Reaches is known for. It amazes her — to the point where she'll force you to make ice-sculpture after ice-sculpture — many of them, fastened after herself. Sometimes she'll leave them, sometimes she'll eat them (*crunch* ** Good for the teeth. **), sometimes she'll mash them to pieces.

But maturity eventually comes, and with it she'll discard some of the more childish pranks of the past for better, deeper, more mysterious things. Coming into her season is a good example of this; a proddy Xeth is one with a secret. Her mindvoice is more pungent, rosemary steeped all in oil as she withdraws into herself, sensual but largely quiet. Just that glint in her eye, that special way she curls her talons, and the looks she gives the males - they don't know when, but /she/ knows. And when she finally does take off it will be largely without warning, even for you. One minute you're pouring a mug of klah, the next you're sipping hot blood.. wait a minute.

Crafty, crrrrafty Xeth. Keep on your toes! « Which reminds me. These talons, they need polishing, hmm? »

Name: Xeth
Dragonet: Spitfire Rosemary Green Dragonet
Egg: Icy Comet Egg
Hatcher: Ophelia
Name - You!
Desc - V'kyre/Ophelia
Egg - Starcraft
Inspiration - V'kyre, Pita, Ophelia

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