I collaborated with over a dozen artists and creatives looking to grow our social media impact through each creating a coloring or activity page to contribute into a collective freebie product! This is the brain child of the Very Social Animal which I highly recommend joining if you are interested in learning how to sell and grow your social media presence (and if you love kawaii things!). Go here to download the FREE coloring book collab! Each contribution has their socials after it - and the best part is.... THERES MORE THAN ONE DRAGON! 🥰 See if you can find mine for the Dragon Village! https://jaceandjudy.com/products/free-coloring-book-color-our-world If you would like to rock your socials and participate in challenges, come join us in the Very Social Animal. I would love to see how you colored them once you've finished one!

The atmosphere in Runi’s attic had reached a state of Vibrational Criticality. The protective null-conductors he had installed began to glow a violent, electric white, struggling to contain the pressure emanating from the teal-blue oval. The air itself grew thick with the scent of ozone and ancient forest floor, a sensory contradiction that signaled the thinning of the veil. Runi, anchored by his years of astral training, could feel the very atoms of his home beginning to resonate at a frequency that no longer belonged to the physical world. The catastrophe began not with a bang, but with a Silent Vacuum. At exactly 03:00, the gnarled, thorny wooden frame encasing the egg began to grow at an impossible rate. The branches didn't just expand; they carved through the floorboards and ceiling, not by breaking them, but by merging with them. The wood of his house was being rewritten by the "idea" of the dragon’s cage. As the teal veins within the egg reached a blinding luminance, the internal pressure became a Resonance Cascade. The walls of the attic began to ripple like water. Runi realized too late that the egg wasn't just hatching into his world—it was pulling his world into its own. When the shell finally shattered, it did not fall away in shards. Instead, the teal surface dissolved into a swirling vortex of Astral Nebula, a mixture of indigo, azure, and midnight blue. From the center of this cosmic storm, the dragon emerged. It was a creature of Dual Geometry: its wings appeared as shimmering light-leaks on the outer perimeter of its form, while its scales possessed the high-contrast, metallic texture of precision-tooled silver. The moment the hatchling took its first breath, it let out a cry that was both a physical sound and a psychic decree. This sound acted as the Final Anchor, snapping the feedback loop into place. The dragon stood at the center of the room, yet Runi could see through its translucent chest to the jagged obsidian spires of the Deep Astral. It existed in both realms simultaneously, a living bridge between the finite and the infinite.

Runi stood in the center of what used to be his sanctuary, now a hollowed-out shell of cedar and dust. The transition through the light-leak perimeter had become easier, but the physical attic felt strangely thin compared to the high-contrast vibrancy of the Astral Keep. While the permanent bridge allowed his material belongings to reside in the Deep Astral without fading, the reverse path remained a mystery governed by the Law of One-Way Permeability. He looked down at the floorboards where the gnarled, thorny wooden frame had once merged with the house. To his astonishment, the wood was not dead. Tiny, translucent shoots of astral flora were curling out from the cracks in the floor, pulsing with the same teal-blue internal light that had once characterized Astaro’s egg. This was organic matter from the astral plane, yet it had not dissolved into mist upon re-entry. It was thriving in the material world, anchored by a biological resonance he hadn't yet named. The Failure of Dead Matter Eager to test the limits of this discovery, Runi reached back through the shimmering vortex of Astral Nebula and grasped the 19th-century brass maritime chronometer. He had watched it function perfectly on the indigo stone altar of the Keep, its gears ticking in Conceptual Moments. "If the moss can stay, then the machine should follow," Runi whispered, his voice echoing in the empty attic. However, as the brass instrument crossed the threshold, the dual-realm frequency began to reject it. The heavy, polished brass began to flicker, turning into a varying shade of charcoal gray before losing its mass and molecular structure entirely. Within seconds, the chronometer—a masterpiece of physical mechanics—shattered into a shower of cerulean sparks and vanished. The Biotic Exception Runi realized then that the Impingement Field created by Astaro's birth was selective. He returned to the Keep and found a small astral flicker-wing—a delicate, moth-like creature of the upper realm—resting on a jagged obsidian spire. He gently coaxed the creature onto his finger and stepped back into the material attic.

Poster caught this one's eye on way to market. Didn't spot before but inspired chuckle. Precious yowls wondering why pretty picture amuses. Will explain later for sure.

Morning crept over the mountains in pale gold ribbons, and I woke to the soft crackle of cooling embers and the faint rustle of wings. Sunny sat just outside the tent, alert and proud, as if he’d been standing guard all night. I crawled out, made sure the fire was properly dead, and packed my gear with the practiced motions of someone counting the last of his supplies. The ration bag was nearly empty. “Looks like it’s town or nothing, buddy,” I told him, earning a hopeful chirp and a small puff of smoke. We had barely made it a short distance down the mountain when music drifted through the trees—soft at first, then clearer. Curious and hungry, I followed the sound until we peeked through the brush to find a cloaked traveler alone in a forest clearing, her pack set aside as she danced freely in the chill air. She spun, clapped, and sang to the rhythm of her own memory: “Fire cracks in the black of night, dancing, cackling, burning bright…” Sunny’s eyes widened, mesmerized—and then, at the worst possible moment, he sneezed. A tiny fireball popped from his mouth with a surprised squeak. The dancer froze mid-twirl; I froze mid-step. For a heartbeat we all stared at one another...TO BE CONTINUED!