A Hermit's Lament

On a lonely island in the midst of the ever churning sea rested a curled up form. With pale sea foam green scales and numerous fins, clearly a Sea Wing from first glance, sunbathed as he thought about about his discoveries.

"I am alone. The palace is completely abandoned, the seas once owned by the tribe are deserted, and no sign of anyone I even remotely knew who are probably hiding...or dead."

A deep sigh came from the middle-aged seawing as he lamented silently to himself. Why did he abandon his tribe so long ago...should he have returned sooner? Could him even being there have changed anything at all? All these questions spun through his head quickly, forming, disappearing, reappearing again until he shook his head slightly.

As if to try and cheer himself up, he sat up and with a forearm held up to his wrinkled snout blew in between two of his talons. A translucent sphere began to slowly take shape, until finally separating and floating off aimlessly away from him. "Some Guardian I turned out to be...huh father? Little old Tei who tried so hard to make you and mother proud." He chuckled lightly and sighed depressingly before blowing another bubble.

"Yeah...I thought so to."

Ptelea had decided to explore the area she called home now. Cliffs all looked the same here, so she wanted to find some landmarks in case she ever got lost. She hadn't found anything yet, but then she was flying over the ocean. Ptelea thought once about grabbing some fish, but she was neither a SeaWing nor confident that there weren't sea-dwelling monsters. With that in mind, she decided to fly a little higher. That's when she noticed a little island. Ptelea flew toward it. She just happened to choose the side of the island where a SeaWing rested to land. However, she landed at the opposite end, so it would take a while for her to venture over.

Over a short while the hermits side of island slowly began to glisten from the bubbles popping occasionally and coating wherever they popped in a slick, odorless, substance. With so much already coating the ground that, while normally a bubble popped upon touching the ground, actually stayed intact and seemed to merge with some of coating on the ground to form bulbous shapes throughout the beach. During a particularly big one forming he barely noticed a flying shape show on the bubble before popping. He blinked and merely continued again, knowing most likely others would find this little island anyway at some point.

The island itself, while not particularly big, would provide a solitary dragon enough territory to sustain themselves. With that, he remained sitting there and resumed thinking to himself. His thoughts centered on, for now, on who this possible new arrival is and if it's a Tribal or Rouge dragon. The latter the most likely, but one can never know. And for whatever reason, whenever the slick coating touched water it seemed to produce a nice, clean smell from the mixing. Why, he never really knew, but it was always a nice smell at least.

The island didn't look like it had any monsters on it. Ptelea was happy about that; she couldn't remember how long it had been since she could walk around in the open without fear. However, she did like her little cave in the cliffs. As the mute ventured toward the opposite side of the island, she noticed a sort of... smell. It was pleasant, but she wasn't sure exactly what it was. Flowers, maybe? Curios, Ptelea headed in that direction, and came upon another dragon. She immediately wondered if she had just trespassed onto someone else's home... Still, it was an opportunity to make a friend, and she really wanted to know what was making the smell. She noticed an unusual amount of bubbles all around, and some were unpopped. Was this the dragon's doing?

Pop

A particularly large bubble that Aquantei had been blowing into popped and coated much of his head in the substance. Blinking, he sighed lowly and noticed the newcomer with a lazy eye, so the other dragon finally made an appearance. A NightWing, based on appearance, but also likely to be a Rouge from how she arrived and then there seemed to be scars around her neck. Curious indeed the hermit thought and she hasn't really done anything to show being remotely territorial. More...ah, the smell from the bubbles mixing with the water, that's probably why.

"Their harmless, if that's whats on your mind from seeing this many bubbles. Unless being clean and smelling nice is a bad thing?" A light chuckle came from the middle-aged hermit as he spoke to the rouge.

Ptelea shook her head at the male's question, as she ventured closer to the bubbles. She sniffed at the pleasant scent, her tail swaying a little. It sort of reminded her of flowers.

Hmmm. Her silent answer spoke in volumes to him and narrowed his thoughts more easily. "I've been told from those I met on my wanderings on what the smell was like to them. It's quite varied surprisingly, from sea foam to honey to fruit." He blew out another bubble and let it drift aimlessly away from him.

"The most common though had been flowers. I'm inclined to agree somewhat, but not completely since it does make a different scent every now and then." He mused out-loud without really realizing it and blinked.

He turned slightly towards the now confirmed Rouge, "Apologies, I sort of rambled on there for a bit. My name is Aquantei the Hermit, Ex-Guardian of the Seawings." Whats even left of them at this point of time.