Icy granite spreads across the muzzle and jaw of this slender beast, rippling over eye ridges and head knobs before fissuring into cobalt. As throat and jaw connects, the ice breaks away into a waterfall of cobalt blue, islets of cornflower blue washing down a sinuous neck and coalescing against the ridges, forming ice burgs in the gentle waylay of sea. As the colors further down to muscular shoulders, rippling silver foams to the surface, twining thinly down lean legs and underbelly with a stream of motion. As the icy ridges fade between the shoulders and hips, splatters of cornflower spread over the thick azure membranes, thin wing fingers the only break of pure cobalt amongst an abstract sky. As the ridges form again atop narrow hips, the cornflower ridges continue, melting down into the same cobalt of a long, whip-thin tail, ending the darkened waters to a teal at the tail's fork-end.
Egg Name and Description
Field of Memories Egg
A pristine field of green decorates the majority of this egg's shell, in some spots the green seeming to sway, like wind blowing through grass. Above this, an unseen sun shoots rays of transparent gold through the surface and even to the bottom, where warm sands hide the very end of the rotund curve. But there is an oddity across the surface of the shell— for at the top, the shell seems new, pristine, even soft, as if touching it would make the surface break away. But as it further progresses, the shell hardens, gaining the illusion of ripples along the green coloration, marring with wrinkles as it dips farther from the top. The wrinkles decay into flakes and then to sand as it curves around the bottom of the shell, though glimmers of green and gold are still retained in spite of the degradation.
Hatching Message
Wobble: Field of Memories Egg shifts in the sands of it's wallow, barely any movement at all in consideration of it all. Sand shifts, and the illusion of the glass upon the shell tipping in the breeze evident as it slides from it's safety net— though not quite yet. Only tilted. Did it really move at all? Surely it did, for it's axis is tilted just a little…
Crack: Field of Memories Egg shudders again, tapping sounds coming from within and causing the egg to topple completely out of it's wallow and onto it's side. The tapping is just a faint thing, but the resultant crack is not, resounding from it's little corner of the world as a clawed appendage breaks free of it's confinement… the claw scrabbles at the shell with futile effort, before it disappears back into the unbroken shell. Resting, maybe?
Hatch: Suddenly, Field of Memories Egg breaks apart, the previously holed part of the shell seemingly kicked outwards and causing the rest of it to flake away As the shell crushes inward a young blue hatchling is left stranded, on it's back, flopping around like a fish as it tries to right itself and failing horribly…
Impression Message
Quite suddenly the sands are washed away in a whirlwind of chaos, cool breezes and the smell of grass, accompanied with flecks of cold snow, panic alive in a searching mind… that suddenly calms in an instant as it finds your own. The breeze turns warm, the taste of salt in the air as it passes by and the scent of distant flowers wafting in. « Gailen. » The mind connected with your own finally replies, the panic of before suddenly becoming an unfathomable amount of love, and devotion, that it's nearly staggering to comprehend. «G'len! You are mine! And I am yours, forever and ever and ever! You and I, we shall scour the sea and touch the stars, and play games beyond imagination! » The voice is gleeful now, the breeze turning brisk, happy, as it surrounds you in all these emotions. « Who am I? I am your Dylanth, as you are my G'len. » Suddenly, snow flecks through the tropics again and a gut wrenching hunger can be felt through you… « But, before all these things… food? I'm /starving/… » And so the hold of the blue hatchling's mind releases, bringing you back to the present, even if your life is now forever changed…
Mind Description
This mind is much like the passing of seasons, and depending on winter or spring, the proverbial “age” might change as well, suggesting the passing of seasons. When your blue is happy, there will be the smell of grass and flowers, maybe even the soft breeze off the ocean, with a cool wind much like one would experience during the spring months with a childish and bright voice. Fall would be serene, thoughtful moments, with the smell of wet logs and mulch, little breezes of orange, yellow and red passing through the mind's eye. The only time this lad will fall into winter is when he is mad or upset for some reason, glacial winds striking and white whirlwinds accompanying his thoughts. And Summer, the full intense heat, and the smell of a desert? During a flight, when the competition is high… and he's throughly enjoying his flight, and potential catch of the lovely lady.
Personality
I'm 15 for a moment,
Caught in between 10 and 20,
And I'm just dreaming…
If adventure is what you seek, this lad is the Peter Pan of dragons— born into the world with a splash of excitement, Dylanth will be such even long after he's off the sands and into the barracks. He has the innate curiousity of a child, leading him to ask many questions for simple things, and over time, for things you might never have the answers to… but this will never stop his wonderment of the world. For in even the most ugly thing, he can see the beauty within it… or perhaps merely it's usefulness, if not it's grandeur.
Every day's a new day…
As he grows older and is allowed outside the barracks, you will find that your lad is drawn to the water, talking you into excursions to the lagoon as much as he can, where he'll either devulge himself in a good swim, or simply sit on the beach with his sails opened. « I like the feel of the wind under my wings. » Will be his simple reply if you ever ask him why he has this habit, and there will be little else of explanation. He is much of the water as he is of the sky, and will equally adore both long before he's even flown in the sky…. he'll take some of those moments that he's “sailing” on the ground, to peer at the sky. « I think… that one's shaped like a firelizard. Don't you think so, G'len? » Don't expect not to learn Pern's star constellations, either, as much as you've learned of Pern's oceans… because Dylanth will ask. In that curiousity, your Dylanth might convince you into a bit of trouble, as well, trying to get you to sneak off and admire something when you should be taking care of chores, or doing drills. He'll be a slacker at first, but as the time gets closer to Unmanned Flights, he'll suddenly take more interest in his drills, and become intent upon you to learn everything, for with that curiousity always comes the undying love of learning.
Half time goes by,
Suddenly you're wise,
Another blink of an eye…
As he reaches maturity, the force that drove him to mischief at a young age will be the same force that drives him to responsibility as an adult. He will be your foundation where you lack it, encouraging you to persue things you might not necissarily do on your own. « How will you ever know the out come, if you never dare to try? » Despite his change into an adult, the wonderment will still remain, though it will become more refined, more opinionated. « Isn't that music beautiful? It really is a haunting toon… What does it mean? » The mind of a man, in the awe of a child, that is the makeup of your Dylanth… for never doubt his intelligence, for he certainly is, and will speak of insight that you might never expect from a dragon.
I'm 22 for a moment,
She feels better than ever,
And we're on fire…
During flights, your Dylanth will suddenly show an intensity and interest that he might've never shown before, a gentleman clothed in dragon hide, and at the same time, a love-sick child… whichever green flies will become the sweetest and most alluring creature Dylanth has ever met, crooning and dancing in the sky with the agility his small form grants him. For unlike most who chase just for the catch, half the adoration will be in the chase. If he catches the lady, he might be attentive to her for a few sevendays if she so allows, and if he loses, unlike most, he'll end up a bit moapy. Though, he won't be down forever, of course, and soon the perky soul that is this blue will return in full force, bringing a rose-colored tint to your life that might've looked horribly gray, before.
Credits
Dylanth(Dye-lanth) is derived from Dylan, whom is the Welsh god of the sea, as you requested. Though, as a being a dragon, I gave him a love for the air as much as the sea, for he is a flying creature, and flight is much like swimming through the sky?
The theme of the clutch itself was “Music”, and “Field of Memories Egg” was based upon the song “100 Years” by Five for Fighting. The song, in my mind, essentially speaks to a young boy who sees his life as it passes, and all the things he endures, and yet in seeing it all, he is young, and looks forward to experiencing life. The best way I could express age was through seasons, which is the passing of age for the planet, as it melds from the birth of plants and animals in the spring, to the death of them in the fall and winter. And so, I applied many different types of seasons to your lad, while trying to give his hide a “painted” feel, which you expressed enjoying in your application.
I hope you enjoy him, and that he's lived up to your expectations! Remember, he is your's now… his personality is as you see fit… I only give suggestions on what might work best for him. ;) — Rea.
| Timeless Waters Blue Dylanth | |
| Dam | Gold Bennueth |
| Sire | Bronze Nasrinth |
| Created by | Rea |
| Impressee | G'len |
| Feb. 13th, 2009 | |
| Western Weyr | |
| PernWorld MUSH | |
+++Dylanth's Themesong
"Mary Stanford of Rye"
by Alan Maslen
The first songs that I learned, once I got over the obvious little children's songs with which we are all inundated, were sea chanties. My father was a sailor, my mother one of the first wonem in Kentucky to join the U.S. Navy when WWII broke out. It's a tradition. I have always loved the sea and am always listening for more songs of the sea. So any song I chose for Dylanth would have to bee a sea chanty. I chose this song for Dylanth while listening to the CD "Seven Seas" by Felicia Dale and William Pint (that's pronounced with a short 'i' as in "inch"). They are a wonderful couple who specialize in sea chanties. Look them up at www.pintndale.com and buy some great CD's! I very much enjoy hearing them when they come to sing at the Tall Ships Festival at Dana Point which happens each September. They are, in my opinion, the best performers there. I first heard them years ago at a San Diego Folk Music Heritage Society concert. They sang this song and I thought it was beautiful even though it is sad. When listening to it at work a few days ago I knew that it was pointing the way to the path that Dylanth would follow, that he would not only fly to guard over the ships of Emerald Island, to help them find fish and protect them from renegade ships, but also to work as a rescue dragon as well. I have the lyrics below. If you are interested in hearing the song please @mail me, G'len.
Just one further note, the R.N.L.I in the song is the Royal Naval Lifeboat Institute.
The Mary Stanford of Rye
Allen Maslen
When master John Stanford of London town died
They read out his will and his legacy spied
It said take this bequest for to build me a craft
So that with it my name shouldn't die
And give it to the R.N.L.I.
So they fashioned a lifeboat of Liverpool class
38 feet from the stem to the aft
With a close reefed mainsail on a 20 foot mast
And to grant the last wish of his life
Named it Mary after his wife
She went into service in 1916
And 63 times from the boathouse she screamed
Cross the shale of Rye Bay
Through the teeth of the storm
And into the mouth of the waves
All sailors lives there to save
Johnny come home they all sing from the pier
On the 15th day of November each year
And one day the sea she will give up her dead
And home will come young Johnny Head
Home will come young Johnny Head
Young Johnny Head
Had just turned seventeen
And to serve on the lifeboat was
Young Johnny's dream
His father was the coxswain
His brother in the crew
And to serve he was willing to die
On the Mary Stanford of Rye
On November 15th
With the storm at its height
The Alice of Riga was losing her fight
Seven miles from Dungeness
She was drifting and lost
And the crew prayed and cried to the moon
That's when they heard the maroon
It was four in the morning
When young Johnny Head
On hearing the signal
He leapt from his bed
With his father and brother
They ran like the wind
That churned up the furious waves
But there were lives to be saved
To haul out the lifeboat
Took blood, sweat and tears
It took them two hours
Must have seemed like two years
Exhausted and spent, they set her afloat
And into the barbarous waves
Rowed Mary to Alice's aid
It was 6:45 when the shoremen lost sight
of the Mary as she pitched out into the night
And at 6:51 the coastguard he rang,
Saying "Stand down your lifeboatmen brave
For the Alice is already saved."
Nobody knows from that day to this,
Why the coastguard got word at eleven past six
But the message he kept forty minutes or more
While seventeen brave men of Rye
Rowed into the tempest to die
It was almost noon on the terrible morn
And the families and launch crew had
Waited since dawn
When suddenly somebody pointed and cried
And there in the surf and the spray
The Mary Stanford she lay
Her body was battered, her keel was upright
No close-reefed mainsail, no crewmwn in sight
They hauled her ashore
And they knelt round and prayed
Then they gazed out again at the main
And the tears they ran like the rain
Then one by one
The sea gave up her dead
First Willie Clark then young Jimmy Head
Then Albert and Rob, the two Cutting boys
And three from the Pope family
And nine more sons of the sea
But young Johnny Head
He never came home
He lies out somewhere in the ocean alone
His comrades lie buried
In the churchyard at Rye
And they keep him a space for his bed
Once day they'll find Johnny Head
So the next time you sail
Around Hastings and Rye
Look to the distance and keep out an eye
And if you see a young man from the R.N.L.I.
Standing guard over the foam
You'll know that Johnny's come home