A Rose Among the Thorns Green Rosalyth

At first glance this dragon appears almost unremarkable, a creature of lean and lithe build, but with too-big wings and a too-long tail and a much-too-plain hide of standard emerald green. Though she carries herself well, all things considered, there's simply nothing to set her apart when viewed from a distance. Up close, however, now that is a different story - when one draws near, her finer features are more readily recognized, her face a bit on the long side, but well defined and almost regal in appearance. Subtly raised eyeridges and slanting headknobs lend an air of aristocratic beauty where otherwise she might have appeared plain. Her neck is long, thin, and deceptively graceful in its movements, if not in the standard, bookish bend one tends to develop from time spent gazing downwards. Though somehow dainty, her neckridges push from her spine in sharp arches, veritable thorns rising from the greenery of her hide - and make no mistake, such greenery abounds. It is subtle, nuanced as the rest of her, a shimmery golden-green pattern of leaves, and vines, and thorns, and roses much like those that originated upon her egg's shell, twisting in complicated turns, disrupting the crystalline emerald depths of her hide. They whorl over shoulders, curve about her forearms, embroider the edges of her wings and the long column of her spine before finally fading to mystic stardust along each marking's ornate edges. Streaks of a bolder aureolin hue rest about strong clavicles like a necklace, or perhaps more accurately, the sweeping debris of a shooting star that fixes itself perfectly in the hollow just above her hearts, a glimmering promise of a soul whose inner beauty outshines anything her hide could ever hope to portray.

Egg Name and Description

Beauty Lies Within Egg
Gold-yellow contrasts almost violently with earthy tones of brown, pulled up in loose ruches defined at their centers by honey-colored roses. White-greys sweep in shimmering bands of scroll, curling around metallic flecks of reflective silver that strike through color. A band of royal blue curls around the crown of this ovoid, out of place and somehow remarkably ugly, the egg appearing almost ruined along the edges of it and in every disruptive smear of brown that interrupts an otherwise beautiful pattern.

Hatching Message

Beauty Lies Within Egg heaves once more, the dragon inside within working diligently at the initial point of impact. THUMP. THUNK. THWAP! And the top of the egg is no more, shattered into a million blue-and-yellow pieces as a snout emerges. There and gone, it vanishes back within the confines of that hardened shell. A moment of readiness, a little trembling along the shell, and then with a mighty KA-POW the egg splits in half as wings and limbs push against opposite sides. A startled cry announces the arrival of a new life, a tangle of limbs and tail and neck that has yet to sort itself out but is very much green, and very much here.

Impression Message

The sands fade and in their place, a garden grows. Not the lush and tropical flora of Xanadu Weyr, but the dark and refined order of the colder northern regions, where snow flurries curl around your ankles and your breath mists in the dark . Thorny branches curl and twist, gently, lovingly threading their way around you until you have been utterly removed from the heat and chaos of the hatching grounds. A warm, golden light spreads in your mind, cautiously optimistic like a long awaited dawn. « Hello? » It comes with the scent of dank soil and cultivated greenery, with a hint of dust and older-things. « Is it… It is you! » breathed out, as roses bloom in delight and the garden comes alive in wonder, awakening to full color after a long and dreary winter-time. « My Lani, I am so glad you are here! » Those branches take hold, tangling and weaving into the depths of your soul, irrevocably claiming you as her own. « Rosalyth. I am Rosalyth, » given in glee and delight, overjoyed even as the pang of her stomach becomes known to you both. « Oh… and I am rather hungry… »


There is something about Rosalyth that, despite her beauty and her demeanor, separates her from the crowd. It’s an ‘other-ness’ that is difficult to name, but remains nonetheless. Though many would agree that Rosalyth is friendly, bright and sometimes bubbly, there is a bit of distance between her and the rest of her peers. She doesn’t seem to quite fit in, despite wanting to do so, and it makes her a bit of an outsider looking in. Never quite part of the group, never quite accepted. Perhaps it is her love of books, something that is certainly peculiar for a dragon. Or maybe it is her love of runners, as friends and companions and NOT for eating. Or perhaps it is simply that she has grander ideas and plans that make her discontent with the status quo. Whatever it is, Rosalyth will recognize early on in life that she somehow doesn’t fit in quite as easily as others might.

“A beauty but a funny girl, that Belle.” - Disney’s Beauty and the Beast

In her youth, she is a bit physically awkward. Though already a pretty creature, she struggles with graceful and easy movement. Her feet are a bit big, her tail is a bit long, her wings just disproportionate enough that it throws off her balance and makes movement a struggle. Slow and careful is her ally, which may frustrate her some as she seeks to keep up with her clutchmates. But as she fills out, those disproportionate parts will suddenly fall into place. The rest of her will catch up to the size of her feet, the length of her tail, and the breadth of her wings. She will learn to move with elegance and grace, and those features that so troubled her as a weyrling will become an asset rather than a hindrance.

At her core, she is a scholar. She has a thirst for knowledge that was born the day she cracked her shell and spilled out onto the sands. The world is a big, beautiful, AMAZING place that she cannot wait to discover and learn about. Everything is fascinating to her; from the pull of the tide to the changing seasons and the sprouting of new life. In the beginning, Rosalyth may need firm guidance to keep her on track. There is simply so much to do, and to see, and to learn, and she gets so very absorbed in her current train of thought that she can forget the passage of time or that her attention is needed elsewhere. Gentle reminders are usually sufficient, to pull her head from the proverbial book and back into the here and now of the lesson at hand.

While some might consider knowledge to be power, for Rosalyth it is simply an innate fondness for books and learning in general. Her favorite subjects are History and Philosophy, with a little bit of art on the side. And of course she adores healing, because YOU adore healing. Rosalyth will never tire of hearing about the workings of the human body, what new ailments you’ve encountered or trauma you’ve helped set right. She delights in the passion with which you display for the subject. Never will she turn away or withdraw, even when descriptions become a bit, ah, “graphic” in nature. Blood and gore? They do not bother this lady, and she’s more likely to ask for further information than to shy away from the details.

« The bone came right through the skin? Did you have to perform an amputation? Was it just like the book showed, or was there more blood? »

Which brings us to our next point. Books. Once she discovers what they are, her appetite for them will be insatiable. Of course she’s a dragon, which brings a certain amount of challenge to her being able to actually READ those books she is so fond of. Because of her size, and the fact that her eyes are not designed for deciphering tiny print (nevermind she is illiterate, though she may encourage you to try and teach her how to read), you will be requested to read for her. And while her favorite subjects of study are history and philosophy, her guilty pleasure are those wonderful fictional stories. She loves a good tale of daring adventure, especially if it might contain a romantic subplot, and her favorites will be frequent re-reads. You may find yourself becoming intimately familiar with the library and it may be in your best interest to start a collection of your own, at least for her favorites.

But while your Rosalyth may love literature and learning, she is by no means an indoor-girl. Fresh air and sunshine; hard work and honest toil. These are things she also enjoys, putting herself to a task and seeing it through to completion. Nowhere is this more prevalent than in her desire to befriend a runner. Yes. A runner. She adores them. As smitten as any runner-crazy weyrbrat, and utterly devoted to the idea of having one as a pet. So expect to be reading up about how to care for them, how to tame them, and how to train them. And at the first opportunity, Rosalyth will likely request (politely) that you acquire one. For her. Size and shape, breed or quality, it will not matter. What matters is that it has four hooves, whinnies and is of the genus Equus.

She does not bemoan the trivial things, having within her an innate understanding for her place within the Weyr and in the world. While she enjoys the finer things in life, and would love to indulge in a little pampering now and again, she does not shy away from hard work or long hours. She wants to earn her place in the Weyr, and become a valuable member of society. She struggles with fitting in socially, with making friends and being comfortable in a crowd, and balances this awkwardness with a true drive to better the place that she lives. Should she come into a position of power or prestige, the title would be worn with dignity and the responsibility would be handled with utmost care.

« Everyone must earn their keep, and I am no different. There is no such thing as a free lunch, Lani. The Weyr survives on everyone doing their part. »

While always polite, Rosalyth is no push-over. She is a confident and independent woman, who will firmly insist upon being treated with respect, and will likewise insist that you are also treated with respect. She is not afraid to stand up for herself. Though violence is not something not easily entertained, she is extremely protective of you and your feelings, and will insist that you make your opinion known if something has upset you.

« Do not let him push you around, Lani. If you think he was being insensitive, you should tell him so. »


Rosalyth is a long, skinny dragon. Lithe and limber, with a thin tail, broad wings and larger than average feet. It’s her longer-than-normal tail and those broad, broad wings of hers will likely be the source of much disgruntlement as a weyrling. They throw off her balance, making quick movements cumbersome and challenging. As Rosalyth is a careful creature by nature, this means that she will move very slowly (and perhaps even ponderously) until she’s sorted herself out and is confident of her body.

There will be very little in the way of clumsy accidents, if just because she’s so dang precise and SLOW in an effort to avoid just such mishaps. And once she’s got herself sorted out? Beauty and grace will define her movements.

As an adult, she will move with refined elegance rather than sensuality. She displays this dignity both in the air and on the ground, moving fluidly through the skies with the same practiced, careful discernment of various limbs and body-parts as she took on the ground. She is a dancer, but it is a courtly ballroom dance of precise and fluid movements, making something that might be difficult look effortless. Poetry in motion.

Despite her long and lean appearance, there is quite a bit of power to be found as well. It’s deceptive, really. She moves with such care and respect that one might believe her to be delicate when in reality she is very strong and powerful. She wields this power as she does everything else; with respect and care.


When her hide starts to glow, all of that polite friendliness that comes so readily from Rosalyth will all but vanish. She will become sullen, reclusive, and downright grumpy, shunning society and favorite activities, and even YOU, in favor of dark and shadowy places.

It will start slow, and build over time, this feeling of inadequacy. She’s not pretty enough, not good enough, not WORTHY enough to be around others. There will be a sudden resentment for any and all attention, shunning people and dragons alike, and even her beloved runners will be ignored while she deals with a sudden and pervasive sense of insufficiency.

The brighter she glows, the uglier she feels. She will desire to pull away from anything that reminds her of light and love. Pretty things will disgust her, and she’ll push them away or physically remove herself from them if possible. Her taste in literature will tend toward the macabre, and she will vehemently refuse anything that hints at a happy ending. Should the males attempt to flirt or woo her, they will be met with derision and scoffing. Nothing said will be believed, unless it conforms to her own suddenly-warped self-image.

Toward the end, just before she goes up, she will become inconsolable; grouchy and beyond irritable, snapping at the smallest of slights and physically destructive if her ire should really be incited. Though not a violent dragon, she will nonetheless vent her frustrations on inanimate objects. Hide your valuables, for the only thing that seems to be safe from her wrath are her beloved books. Furniture? Forget it. That beautiful painting? Torn to shreds. If she’s angry enough, there’s nothing safe. Thankfully, such a level of destruction heralds the end of her proddiness, and it’s likely that she will rise in mere hours (if not minutes).

The flight itself will be fast and rough; aggression displayed in the pattern she takes through the air, but she’s more keen on outrunning those who pursue her than trying to tear them into pieces. While normally rather graceful in the sky, when she’s rising to mate there is none of that beauty on display. Tactical and brutish; channeling all of her power and skill into a race for the sun in an effort to put distance between those that seek to catch her. She is not one for flirting, but rather reverts to a primitive form of communication: snarling and growling her frustration rather than speaking it.

When she is inevitably caught, and tails are twined, there is relief and resignation. The madness is over, and she accepts her partner without a fight. It will depend on her prior relationship with the male, whether or not she will seek to companionship afterwards. Should he be a stranger, it is likely that she will dismiss him politely and seek her own wallow once again. Should he be a friend or, even a potential consort, it is likely that she will seek to linger with him and reassure herself of her worth at his side. She does not NEED a man, but it sure feels nice to cuddle up with one.


Something There That Wasn’t There Before

They say that the greatest beauty is that which lies within, and in this, Rosalyth is no exception. While her body might err on the side of awkward, her personality just a little bit 'funny,' her mind more than makes up for the lack. It contains hints of spring and new life, a garden in full bloom that's as vivacious, warm, and bright as her mellifluous voice. For casual conversations, she is characterized by prickling plant-like shoots of thought that slowly rise into another dragon's mind, ideas budding brilliantly into bloom, bringing with them the soft patter of rain and the dewey scent of earthy things: rich soil and autumn showers, or perhaps green leaves and bright flowers rendered fragrant by midday heat.

Deep conversations require similar depth from her, gentle curving illuminations around her words giving way to a mass of elegantly-trimmed shrubbery and warm summer sun. Flowers blossom in vibrant color, clinging to vines and brush, sprouting forth from dark, lush soil in spellbinding purples, breathtaking blues, heartrending pinks, and crimson reds. Clipped hedges keep less-dainty dragons from mentally obliterating her space, prim, delicate, but occasionally thorned as a reminder to keep less-than-admirable thoughts to one’s self. Benches lacquered in rich golds sit before a pond alive with the motion of spotted koi and goldfish, hints of other wildlife inherent in birdsong and the occasional flicker of fur in the corner of one's eye. Trim gravel pathways arc through ample greenery, carefully regimented, symmetrically spaced to bring a subtle sense of structure to a space otherwise defined by growth.

Yet to each may come their quiet days, whether by sadness or by the distance inherent to deep personal thought, and on these days, crisp blue skies glaze over with a blanket of slate grey, clouds hanging heavy over her mind's eye. Rains come and go on the tide of her moue, sometimes gentle, sometimes thunderous in their sound, botanical depths blotched and blurred as though viewed through a steamed window, or a painting left to wash away in the torrent. It is not overly morose, this rain, merely cleansing, a necessary purge of emotion to return herself to gentle, spring-like status quo.

Yet closer inspection will always reveal something that wasn't obvious before: first, that these plants are not delicate southern fair, liable to wither and die at the slightest snap of cold. No, these are made of tougher material than that, characterized by sprawling evergreens, perennial plants, annual hedges and blooms that promise to return again without fail. Second, that though Rosalyth is not terribly quick to anger, when she does, it is with a fury that makes this persistence so very, very necessary. This is because Rosalyth's anger world is set aflame: smoke curling to blot out mental skies, suffocating, heavy in its absoluteness. Wildfire lays waste to beauty, consumes everything in its sight, lancing through her mind in a white-hot flash that, while devastating, is, at least, quick to burn itself out.

Winter is always swift to settle in its absence, cooling heated edges with low, simmering hisses as billowing snow makes contact with glittering charcoal crags. Slowly, the sparkling remnants of flame die out, surrender to the inevitability of a hard, cold frost. Snow buries benches beneath glistening blankets, suffocates the torn remnants flowers, rests heavy on branches once burdened with life, now scarred and carved and hollowed, so very dead. Surviving flora and fauna goes dormant in tacit fear and understanding of this time, springtime rabbits burrowing deep in dens, birds dispersing for warmer climes, the whisper of foxes in barbed hedges going still as the touch of winter and death comes for them. It’s cold, this world, almost unbearably so, as frigid as her voice when it turns brittle as cracking ice, and within it lurks something deep, dark and menacing, the hunched, growling potential for cruelty that lurks within us all when times are fraught with unkind emotion and the sun never quite reaches full light.

As is the nature of any world, including hers, this does not last. Though winter might clutch at the edges of her mind with so many skeletal hands, thorned branches digging deep with the intent to trap, to keep, eventually something within her draws a deep breath, unwinds, and exhales with the quality of an internal equinox. Ethereal cold melts in healing rivulets, stitching gaping wounds left by the flame, leaving trace scars, but somehow only that. Warmth oozes slowly from a returning sun, energy regathering, with it the pale shoots of life returning to her mindscape. It's like watching a time lapse of a valley of wildflowers as they come into bloom, tiny seeds of potential curling up from the nurturing depths of ashes, pushing skywards to gather warmth and light. Her voice melts with the thaw, icy condescension fading first into budding apology, and then back into soft, melodic cadence in time with the arrival of new blooms.


Egg: Our theme this cycle was ‘fairy tales’ and, as you guessed, your dragon’s egg was themed after Beauty and the Beast! The egg description and touches were written by Risali.

Mindvoice: That beautifully detailed mindvoice was written by Siobhan. <3

Dragon: Rosalyth is a bit of a mash-up between Belle from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast (both the animated and the live-action version) and the character Beauty from Robin McKinley’s book “Beauty, a retelling of the story of Beauty and the Beast”.

Description: I cannot write a dragon description to SAVE MY LIFE, so that beautiful description is courtesy of Siobhan! I gave her the bare-bones of what I envisioned, and she took it and made something wonderful (and I hope you think so, too!). I borrowed from the book for Rosalyth’s physical appearance. Beauty considers herself to be plain, in comparison to her beautiful older sisters, being physically shorter than them with big hands and big feet. She can be a bit self-conscious about it, and becomes something of a concern when she finds herself at the castle, decked out in finery fit for a princess. She has a warped sense of self-image, often refusing the finer things because she doesn’t believe she is suitable for them.

In the story, Beauty (whose real name is Honor) is the youngest daughters born to a rich merchant. The family falls on hard times, and they are forced to relocate to the country and eek out a simple living to survive. Eventually, she comes to live at the enchanted castle, with the Beast, whom she eventually falls in love with.

She also gets her hard, honest work-ethic from the book-Beauty (though Belle displays this as well). Despite having been born into privilege, Beauty (nor her sisters) ever complain about moving to the country and taking up lives that involve menial labor.

For Flights, I went with the Beast of the movies, with his propensity towards aggression and anti-social behavior. The book-Beast is much more refined, but still reclusive. I wanted to add a darker element to the otherwise bright and cheerful Rosalyth, and felt it was only appropriate to include the other main character from the stories.

Beauty and the Beast is one of my absolute favorite stories, and it tickled me PINK that you suggested it as a potential dragon inspiration! I hope you have as much fun with her, as I did dreaming her up, but ultimately, Rosalyth is your dragon to play with as you’d like. Use what you love, tweak what you don’t, and ultimately, HAVE FUN!!

Name Rosalyth
Dam Leirith
Sire Garouth
Created By Sephany (with help from Risali and Siobhan)
Impressee Lani (Kelani)
Hatched Winter 2018
Xanadu Weyr
PernWorld MUSH

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