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Flame-Foot Farthest Walker Bronze Sekhaenkath

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Flame in the Darkness Egg

Flame-licked darkness settles around this egg's glossy black shell. Perfectly shaped, the flicker of orange-fire touches upon the rounded base, nestled in the heated sands. Shimmering light blooms from the high-gloss touch of the abyss, hiding ellusive stars against midnight's softness. Size has little meaning; beauty is found in the elegance of candle-flame against shadows.

Hatching Message

Flame in the Darkness Egg does not so much quake nor shiver nor crack as it does explode. The trappings of shell'd prison fly outward, exposing the tangled darkness of flame-foot'd dragon glass dragonet. Imperial, regal; from birth Flame-Foot Farthest Walker Bronze Dragonet's presence cannot be denied. Shaking the last remnants of shell from glossy shine of glassy snout, he takes the first step.

Flame-Foot Farthest Walker Bronze Dragonet

Fractured fragments of blackened dragonglass coalesce along the sharp line of neckridges, sleek dip of chest and jagged upthrust of ember-lit wingsails. Nine lives writ in carmine splendor gilds every sharp edge, every feline curve, repudiating the ill-luck shadows that threaten to entrap him forever. Phoenix glow burns brazen behind the dark-mirror shine of lethal length and line: his paws burn neat-footed, fleet-footed brass, a red-copper truth unrepentant against the darkness of lithe frame—and oh, does the recurve of high-lofted headknobs cry herald to the dawn! Golden rays of liquid sun cast between wide-set eyes, pooling along the concave curve of chiseled visage - his is an exotic brilliance, a fierce starlight all the more resplendent for the darkness in which it lies embedded.

Public Impression Pose

Cat-like grace embodies the dark, spiky form of Flame-Foot Farthest Walker Bronze Dragonet as he weaves through the crowd of white-robed Candidates. None other will do but the one who's sweet innocence serves as a guiding light for flame-wrought, midnight star. The stars that touch upon the glossy darkness of his hide are subtle reminders of how far he's come to find his one: sweet, sweet Elahrai.

Private Impression Message

Midnight darkness enfolds all of your being in fur'd softness, the faint rumble of the quietest of purrs fills your senses. Your nose tingles with night-blooming jasmine as your mind, your awareness expands. « Elahrai. » That voice burns like the brightest star, making that first connection in a blaze of super-nova light until everything dims. « El'ai. » Melodious is the voice now, bringing with it fresh-churned earth and the salty-tang of a far-off coean. Molten flame licks along the edges of your awareness, pushing you towards the tantalizing scent of fresh meat. « Little tailchaser, I hunger. » The bond's sealed as two souls are seared together in the fires of the cosmos.

Egg Inspiration

A candle in a dark room.

Theme Inspiration

Tailchaser's song. Sekhaenkath is based off of Tangaloor Firefoot, one of the first-born.

Description Inspiration

Ysvarth, Aevryscienth, and Tangaloor himself.

Name Inspiration

Sekhaenkath is a mashup of: Sekhmet + an (in Tailchaser's Song, this means 'sun') + e (in Tailchaser's Song, this means 'hot') + ka (in Tailchaser's Song, this means 'soul' or 'spirit'). This all came together to bring the meanings: warrior, heat, sun, and spirit.

Mindvoice

Sekhaenkath's voice is the melody of night, of things that know the old, delicate pattern that the earth and her things know. It's black and as furry as all the world come together to be fur. Subtle purring rumbles through the melodiously rich baritone, more noticeable when content or happy. A touch of flame — for he is /wrought/ of flame — exists in the pattern of cool starlight against the velvet, abyssal sky of his mindscape. At times, this starlight is as bright as sunlight on snow; ideas shoot across the expanse of his mental mindscape like swiftfly falling stars.

Rich, warm and full of things of the night, of stars and celestial bodies, all with the underscoring of heat; the fires of the cosmos.

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Scent

Night. Night-blooming jasmine, hints of greenery that sway through the night breezes and touches of the salty, ocean breezes. His is a scent that roams far and wide, but always carries the essence of the night with him.

Physicalities

Fresh-hatched, Sekhaenkath will be perhaps surprisingly uncanny on the ground; nimble, quick, with cat-like grace. He'll never fade into the shadows, for the flame-bright bronze on his feet and emblazoned upon his face will ensure that, but there's also a presence to him that eclipses his physical size. His shine gives him away as a metallic, and not an overly-large brown; and, of course, his mask, which he's inherited across the span of time from a long-ago great-great-great-great-great-sire, Sekhaenkath. The fire, forged in starlight, is an influence from the fires of the long-ago great-great-great-great-great-dam, Aevryscienth.

Inheriting from Aevryscienth, as well, is an all-consuming presence charismatic in nature. Whether it is in command or in the vein of telling a story, Sekhaenkath is a dragon that most will listen to, underlaid by a faint thread of compulsion. It is in contrast to El’ai’s trickster nature, ensuring that the bronzerider is not so easily overlooked despite his natural inclination to not seek attention.

Sekhaenkath has a playfulness to him, a hint of the feline emerging from the prickly visage of his looks. His tail is long, and given to whipping about to and fro. At times, though, he can command a stillness that can be shocking and might make you wonder if he's still alive. Touch him, and the slightest head twitch will be your answer.

Oiling Sekhaenkath will not be a hassle. The bronze is a remarkably easy keeper in that fashion, for he quite understands the underlying purpose of oiling: it is not for relief of itching. That much he will stand stoicly, instead of the risk of wing-rot; he’d rather itch than be less than whole. But on the flip side of the same leaf, he will not allow Eth’n to skimp on oiling places that need it; he will direct his rider to the locations overdry, and will expect El’ai’s full cooperation to performing the job as well as could be performed, until it’s performed in its entirety.

Despite a natural approachable stance, the bronze is rather prickly about how he’s oiled, how he’s taken care of. Some places are very clearly DO NOT TOUCH — even by El’ai, who has to cajole and force the bronze to sit still when oiling these tricky spots. But if someone other than his rider attempts to touch or scratch or pet these areas? They may be surprised by the sudden and negative and frightening response. Sekhaenkath is a dragon, so he would never intentionally harm a human unless he was truly defending his rider, but the baring of teeth and the growling that will come of such touching… well it may very well frighten the skin off some.

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Speaking of prickly, he will never exactly be a comfortable ride, even when full-grown. There is nothing smooth, topside of Sekhaenkath; his neckridges are as an outcropping of scattered rough-hewn obsidian arrowheads, glossy and *sharp*. Should El’ai ever want to have a comfortable ride, he’ll be needing to go to the herders for sheepskin to make himself a saddle of sorts – and don’t think for a moment that Sekhaenkath pride will allow *that* to happen. Maybe if it’s dyed a deep, dark blue to set off his hide… perhaps then. But Sekhaenkath cannot afford to look cheap, and he’ll be the first to let El’ai know this, in sharply clipped tones as if the bronzerider should know this before he even mentions it.

In looks, Sekhaenkath is all fey-creature in the dragonglass forged into the shape of a dragon, metallic in hue when seen in the brightness of Rukbat’s light. The deep molten bronze that envelops his feet mark him as bronze and the apex of the males of his species, glittering bright and almost golden-fire in places. Talons are wickedly sharp and often have to be watched lest they rend flesh and tear clothing and other valuables.

At the end of the day, the belly of the beast is his softest and most cuddliest part and reserved only for El’ai. It is reminiscent of turns of old when a much younger El’ai would curl up against this very spot, finding a soft bed of love to ease a child’s fears. Now, in the bloom of manhood, this spot is still a place for El’ai to seek comfort when life’s disappointments seem to be too much, though instead of crying into his hands, it’s a time for introspection — often while watching the dying of the light at the end of a day, where the world hovers on the cusp of night. In those quiet moments when it is neither day nor night, this is when El’ai and Sekhaenkath will find their greatest inspiration, feel their highest and their lows, and both find the even keel to resume a life well lived.

Personality

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Sekhaenkath is both duty-bound and frivolous. As the turns pass and Elahrai - El’ai - emerges from the sweet, innocent child of yore into a man full-grown and in his prime, this frivolous nature will subside and lurk for times when solitude is best. It is this feline nature that drives all things when it comes to the flame-footed bronze: secret-keeping, playful chasing vaguely round-shaped things or string-shaped things, the sudden rushes of energy followed by the sudden crash into a lazy somnolence that finds Sekhaenkath dozing at the height of the day when Rukbat’s Southern light is strongest. If caught completely unguarded, a curious rumble may emanate from the bronze’s throat… that is until he’s caught. The wicked sharp talon may grind and dig into the stones of the weyr when in full-bodied throes of contentment, curiously… not unlike the kneading behavior of some of the smaller felines.

To others, Sekhaenkath has the command of his color; a bronze who's sole desire is to ensure his rider's happiness at all costs. The older El’ai gets, the greater this desire rises to expose his life mate to all that life has to offer. Given his quixotic, feline nature, Sekhaenakth does not strive for rank, yet he does not shy away from it either. Just as happy rolling about in the mud as he is leading wings, El'ai's lifemate lives for one, single purpose: to ensure the quality of his rider's life. And to ensure that the bronze rider’s success in all things that matter. Not necessarily in all things.

This desire is driven by a deeper Purpose: a heated fire woven of falling stars and molten bronze and the fires of molten bronze all driven to push forward a higher quality of life for those even beyond his life mate, though he chases after the white-bird of El’ai’s desire. Compulsion is woven into the stars of adventure - for this all-consuming drive is countered by the soul of an adventuring spirit. A Spirit that strives to seek the world beyond where they merely call home, to find and slay the injustice against those that threaten the structure of the world in which they live. It is a quixotic desire, never easily predicted for what Sekhaenkath holds as important may not be what others would consider important.

Melodious is the voice that touches upon El'ai's mind, rumbling with a quiet purr and rubbling like soft, midnight fur against his thoughts. « El'ai. » Night-blooming jasmine mixes with the soft rustle of a jungle at night, the midnight fur receeding to the night's sky with pinpricks of starlight. « Go fetch that Weyrleader and let him know that his Wingrider allows his wing to bully the young greenrider for cleaving to his nature. » A touch of fire underlies his words, not quite uncomfortably hot, but near so. A command, yes. Compulsion? No.

Sekhaenkath's demands of El'ai grows only more complex as the young bronze rider ages; for first, as a child, the bronze sought for nothing more complex than to provide a cover of protection and ensure a life filled with joy. As he grows into manhood, Sekhaenkath will bring the injustices of the world in which they live to the eyes of his rider, not allowing the growing cynicism that’s encompassing the soul of the young bronze rider to overtake what’s important completely. He will voraciously attempt to protect that kernel of goodness nestled deep within the bronze rider, tainted as it may become over the course of his life. Yet, never will he judge his lifemate, but rather force the young man to aspire to a greater Purpose than what El’ai might naturally cleave to. It is what keeps the young man on point and caring for things beyond merely the success of his life.

In contrast to the Purpose to drive and expose those in need, Sekhaenkath also contains the capacity for a frivolous joy of life. In childhood, this joy contained a purity, an innocence that benefited being bonded to a younger boy-child rather than a man. As El’ai grows, this frivolity takes on a more adventurous, dangerous quality. In need he walks, in need but never in fear: and this holds true when exploring the boundaries of their lives together. Sekhaenkath will never allow El’ai’s world to shrink down to the daily fight against Thread, for life has so much more to offer. Whether it’s the secrets of the jungles or the explorations of deserts so far asunder, or the chance-taking of going against the stream of time; it is all consumed in that bright-flash of the birth of a star in a midnight sky, in the fullest of the bronze’s essence. When focused on something, Sekhaenkath’s attention is an all or nothing affair.

In terms of other dragons, Sekhaenkath is a solitary hunter. He's not given to chatty gossip nor does he really delight in gossiping unless it provides a way to fulfill his ultimate goal: achieving El’ai’s greater understanding and transcendence of life’s Purpose.

Not overly clingy to his rider, Sekhaenkath can walk alone, and he often does. He'll go far and astray, seeking outlying cotholds himself, checking on the lands around his weyr — some inheritance of ownership has continued down the line, but it's not quite the same domineering mentality as the long-lost Ysvarth. Rather, it's the same way in which a tomcat defines his territory; this is his, and everything else is

Other. Occasionally, El'ai will find his dragon singing song-tales to himself, entirely amused by his own antics. And his own folk-stories, which he'll gather from El'ai's memories. Which… only means that the bronze will be a voracious reader, lighting the fires of bookishness in El'ai more than the boy would naturally have been inclined to. Tales from all over are sought out, consumed, and filed away to be remembered later. This story-telling desire will ensure that he will push El’ai to learn of all the folk-tales of the various folk of Pern. Whether they be traders, sea crafters, old-timers, nowtimers; Sekhaenkath has no prejudice of where the origination of stories emerge, only that they exist and continue to exist.

Because of this, it is not unheard of to find El’ai writing within a leather-bound journal all of the stories that Sekhaenkath will not want to forget. All of the stories that he treasures, for the bronze is nothing if not self-aware. His realization at the smallness, quickness of his memory will ensure that nothing that shouldn’t be noted won’t be noted in the journals that he will compel his lifemate to keep.

Soft, contented purring fills El'ai's mind after graduation from junior to senior weyrlings. Warm, midnight fur winds against his thoughts, melodious night-filled voice coming slow. Content. « Tell me again, of the story of how Telgar Weyr rose from the ashes of the meteor shower. »

All stories — whether they be cute and funny or filled with chaos and death — will be treasured. On the rare occasion, Sekhaenkath will encourage a few of the dragons he finds tolerable and enjoyable to converge on his ledge for a circle of story-telling, loosely called by the fey bronze as a Meeting Wall Clan.

Flights

Sekhaenkath is not a dragon that’s given to chase, unless it is a dragon that catches his fancy or if it’s a dragon that’s bonded to a rider that El’ai finds attractive. Although, the rhyme or reason for why and when he chases is hard to pin down. His quixotic nature ensures that sometimes, all the bronze has interest in is watching the flight from afar, in a dragon-loaf curl on a forgotten ledge. He has a greater chance of being lured into flight at dawn or dusk, for Sekhaenkath is much more of a diurnal creature than not. It is when the world hovers in the middle ground between day and night that he is at his sharpest. He has his greatest desire to chase that which glows in the night: like fey-light dancing on the winds of fate.

As domineering as he looks, as commanding as his presence can be, Sekhaenkath is rather playful in the air. It's as if the green or gold he's chasing has become his own personal little mouse-play toy. He'll toy with her, pounce after her, until he's finally able to get his claws — or tail — around her. Once caught, he'll linger with the female until it's time to go. Until the night beckons to him, with all its mysteries. Until the desire for more stories will harken him back home and interrupting El'ai in whatever flight aftermath he may particularly be enjoying.

Often times, this leads to embarrassment.

"Pssst." Says the woman.
"What?" El'ai might say, trying to go to sleep.
"Your bronze is trying to get in."
"…"

Not only will Sekhaenkath not be content to stay with his chosen female, but he'll want to crawl in with El'ai and his catch. If he were small enough, he would curl up on the edge of the bed and be that obnoxious feline that likes to watch. And get in the way. Be that as it may, Sekhaenkath is a bronze, which is a large dragon. So it'll be awkward should El'ai ever try to stay. But his sweetness and innocence and genuine desire to be good will probably charm what anger the female's rider might be feeling at being interrupted. Sekhaenkath will not want El'ai to be kicked out, but finding a rider who would be good with continuing the after-flight antics while a big, fiery, commanding presence bronze tries to squeeze into, is prooooobably not likely.

Thread

Sekhaenkath will be, in flight, as nimble and graceful as he is on the ground. Not only will this aid in hunting — and oh what a hunter he'll be — but this will aid in fighting Thread. Not the best, but not the worst, Sekhaenkath's failings will usually be driven by that overwhelming heart-pulse to protecting El'ai; in Threadfall, the umbrella of protection that dissipated as El’ai grew older will return with a vengeance when a real Threat is given. Even to the chance of letting Thread fall to the ground below. The queen's wing, with their flamethrowers, will be expected to catch what slips through.

His successes in Threadfall will be tied to this sense of his diurnal urgings. Weyrleaders, Wingleaders: they will all come to know that El’ai and Sekhaenkath are at their sharpest with uncanny ability at dawn and dusk. Whether it’s Threadfall or sweeps or drills.

In contrast, the pair of them perform their worst at the height of the day when Rukbat’s light is at her strongest and the fey shadows of the world seek refuge against the bright light that suffuses the land with heat and light. It is a callback to his feline nature, for in the middle of the day between noon and late afternoon is when he is at his sleepiest. Sometimes, in his most recalcitrant moments, Sekhaenkath requires a little bit of prodding to get moving.

If there is anything that will become a bone of contention between the bronze, his dragon and their leaders, it will be this strange schedule that the bronze adheres to.

Summary

In short, Sekhaenkath is the strong, feline presence in El’ai’s life. In need they may walk, but never in fear and always in justice. In this, Sekhaenkath will understand Dhioth, though Dhioth may not understand the mercurial nature of the bronze. His is an essence full of flame and starlight, of night-blooming jasmine and jungles, of adventure and pushing boundaries: driven with Purpose to expose the need of others and seek to better their plight as it affects the world around the bronze rider — to make his world better. A regal cat in his essence, Sekhaenkath is there for El'ai, and no other.

Credits

Name: El'ai
Egg Desc: El'ai
Dragonet Desc: K'ane
Messages: El'ai
Puppeteer: N/A
Inspiration: El'ai

Clutchmates:
N/A