Welcome to Gaia! ::

The Dragon lurks on the edge of wakefulness and sleep, coiling around herself in the gaping maw that acted as the doorway to her home. It was a tree, past tense. This beautiful being had been struck by the heavens and now stood dead and twisted, hollowed by horn and hoof. From the skeletal branches that spread over the clearing like hundreds of grasping claws hung colored stones, cracked bones, clumps of feathers and dried herbs. Those that shone, reflected the light of the moon, swollen and full above the tree. The gaping hole that was the entrance was framed by a giant, sharp-toothed jaw. If you asked, the Dragon would claim it belonged to the greatest of her kin, but in truth, it had been scavenged from a giant crocodile.

Could you glimpse inside, it would be easy to see the many nooks and crannies carved into the dead wood, each holding an herb or stone, or even more bones. In the center of the room, under a bean of pure moonlight was a bowl like depression filled with still, silver water.

The Dragon's tail flicked dangerously close to the pool, threatening to upset its perfect reflection, but she did not care. Her head rested upon the hard packed earth, her large, glowing eyes gazing up at the giant eye that shone above.

It blinked back, slowly, the shockingly white iris constricting around the pale, slitted pupil of of blind eye that sees all. Around the moon, the purple dragon spiraled, twisting, laughing.

She laughed too, a long, smoky chuckle that ended in a sigh. The Purple Serpent that circled the moon halted in its gaiety and instead, turned its head south. The stars that made up the constellations of rabbit and boar swirled together and crashed like a wave against the serpent's scales.

The Dragon rolled, putting her hooves beneath her and rose to greet her guest.

"I have been waiting for you."

"Time," She said, matter-of-factly with an inviting swish of her striped tail, "Time waits for no kin. He is impatient, and sometimes very rude." The Dragon turned her back to the young buck but continued to look at him over her speckled shoulder. She drank in his details, the wide, eyes of a boy not far from his mother's nest. His horns and tail were a thing of pride, and while he wore them proudly as he should, she thought them to also be a heavy burden.

"The moon's serpent called you," She asked in her low, smoky voice, "Do you know why?"