"Stories don’t create impact by being detailed. They create impact by being directed." I love how the stories we see so far have impact and purpose to telling the tales of your dragons. This speaks to having more quests (aka prompts) available to help these tales gain larger life and grander meaning - the pull to be written and told. I would love to hear some ideas of "prompts" or directions that stories could take - I'll add some too ^_^

My mind swims in confounded oblivion clinging to Mother's reassuring voice, soothing warmth, and comforting thrum. Aches and relief crash into me like waves until a chilled consciousness stirs me. Familiar smells surround me: musty wood beams, stale straw, burning oil, old leather, precious metal, and Mother. But I don't feel her warmth or thrum. My bleary eyes open to the lantern that lights up the loft. A luxury for us as Mother doesn't want light to let others know where we live. Mother? I call out in mind and voice, it sounds weaker than usual. I hate this. I lift my head and swivel my gaze peering about the whole of the barn. I don't see her but I smell her. Looking down I realizes she draped her shawl around me, wrapped something over my head, and left her bag to the side. My head aches and I close my eyes trying to block it out until it dawns on me. My eyes snap back to the abandoned bag. Mother... left it?? She never goes without it! Never leaves it behind! It may as well be her first child - but there it is, just left haplessly on the loft floor. Shifting and creaking boards snap my attention to the window Mother has been using for a door. Mother worries that each snowfall will make the main doors hard to open and the cold harder to keep out. She latches the window shut and turns to me holding a bundle her clouds of breath dispersing as she adjusts to the warmth. "Precious!" She coos in a voice that makes me both cringe and relieved as she charges toward me quickly ascending the ladder. Mother scoops me up and holds me close and I sink into her, holding onto her tighter than usual. It's so rare to see her more clearly without her shawl hiding her and the darkness obscuring her. This is Mother. Carmel coated with warm soot capping each extremity, I melt into her yearning for comfort and balm. Mother hums her lullaby as she tends to me, feeding me, and soothing me. She added herbs to the savory meat that dull the pain and ointment to my bound wound. Her touch is gentle and deliberate, and though she hides it under her calm. I sense her worry.

So excited!!! Euphina @Katrina Wright , Blossom @Katie McCardell , and Aliva @Misty Tanner with all our companions.

We watch. We observe the small brown ones. They eat the green swaying things while we watch. We see the quick ones with flickering tails. They crack open the children of the tall green things, consuming what lies within. We see the tall ones moving with grace. They nibble at everything green. So we conclude: The green things, though alive, are sustenance. They are the source upon which these creatures thrive. And the green things do not seem to mind. They do not cry out. They do not resist. They are not sentient. They are simply… here. An odd place indeed. Very well. We have tarried long enough. Mother will want to know more. We rise from our resting place. We move on. We edge closer to the mass of beings we saw from on high, those who move among the dead things. The way is long, but we do not tire. We are built well for this odd place. Well, now that we have tamed our fire. We pause. We sense… an oddity? Life? No. Not life. Something… different. It is large. It does not move. It lies far away, apart from the beings and their dead things. We do not wish to go that way yet. Mother would want us to learn more of the beings here. But She would want to know the oddity too. Stillness… We sense them. There. Three beings, moving through the forest toward the dead things. They travel together. We will follow. We reach the place of dead things and feel the three enter. There are many, many more beings here. Noises — some harsh, some pretty. We nestle beside the tall green things, hidden from sight. We observe. We listen. We are Stormfire. We are ready.

At our Dragon's Feast of Ideas, we established that it would be helpful to have a few things here to help with roleplaying, interacting, and integration into the environment. I will list each topic separately in this thread, and we can expand on them together. Please reply to the related topic so that the ideas fall in line for better clarity.