Mardy's Rose-Leaf Princess Green Ceolath
Daughters of the Air Egg
Cool wispy thoughts cloud its surface, swirling like seafoam and mixing with forgotten blue-greens. There is sorrow here, but also joy—immortality frozen in the cresting tides. Across its surface breaks a crimson red, dripping across the water. The faintest sliver of a knife's glint sparkles near the top. It speaks of the mournful sea, of love lost but eternity gained, and it spreads life and rejuvenation in its wake.

Daughters of the Air Egg rocks and sways, swells building at storm's height. And then, like the cresting of a blood-washed wave, like the bursting of clouds, it shatters in a thundercrack of knife's edge shards, unveiling a pearl-pale dragonet.

Rose-Leaf Princess Green Dragonet
Ocean-born seems this pearl-pale dragonet — all translucent green from her blunted eyeridges to the dainty turquoise eddies around her short tail. Pale verdance fades into her sleek underside, shading into seafoam, and coats her belly in frothy spindrifts that trail up the curve of her slender throat. The random sparkle of reflected starlight on the ocean's surface and the shimmering and vast expanses of the sea: these are her glass-embossed wings. Her eyes hold the same glitter deep within: larger than most, deeper than most, brighter than most, they are the quietness of a private cove, with undercurrents of great depth and turbulence.

Impression Message: It begins with a touch, a glitter, a sensation of soft-eyed gaze, and builds, note upon note, until it reaches fullness: a song, a rhythm, a dance. And /her/ voice, the voice of the bright-winged dragonet before you, it comes softly to you, like the lilting phrases of harpstrings, gentle: » Mardy. « The words spark a flooding wave of sea-scented love and belonging. And it is done, and only just begun.

My name is Ceolath! «

Name and Theme
Our dark fairy tale is Hans Christian Anderson's "The Little Mermaid." If you've seen the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed Disney version, you'll probably think that it isn't dark at all. The real thing is somewhat more tragic. Go to for the full story, and a glimpse of Anderson's storytelling genius.
Ceolath is based on a basic Gaelic root word for music: "ceol". We pronounce it SEE-oh-lath; it can also be pronounced SOLE-ath; we like it, the way it purrs and rolls in your mouth, it's comfortable, and sweet. We didn't even think of another—our first name, and the game's over, because it's perfect for /you/. Personality
Personality? Oh, she's got lots. That doesn't mean that she's brassy, pushy, or bubbly. In fact, she's quiet, the observing looker-on type. Many would assume that she's gentle and meek, when in fact it's all iron determination beneath the reflective demeanor. The only difference is that she's not going to voice her opinions unless asked.

Why? Because she doesn't feel a need to steal the show. She'll take her place in the spotlight once in a while, but only when the time is right. That stems from her inherent benevolence. Even as a greedy little hatchlings, she'll think of others first. » Yes, I'm hungry, but I think that Yzmoth is hungrier. Could you get him some, too? « It's an unconscious kindness, self-sacrifice even, that makes her all the sweeter.

What's another main characteristic? A keen appreciation of the world around her and all its details. She sees everything in all its beauty from monumental to insignificant—and she wants everyone else to see it too. Is Mardy ready to take a nap? Too bad. Ceolath, filled with almost childlike excitement, wants her to observe a family of crustaceans walking across the beach. Whether it's the curve of the Rim or the inevitability of the waves, this dragon wants to share it all, and she might open up Mardy's eyes to a few new ideas.

That doesn't mean that she's all 'la de da, daisies and sunshine.' To Mardy and some very few that she's close to, she'll reveal a sharp sense of humor and even playfulness at times. She's able to find the slight nuances of every situation, and she finds them amusing. It's a slight edge to her that most won't see. That's not to say that she's sarcastic; Mardy can do that. That's her job. In fact, you probably won't hear a cynical word from her.

Now, we were talking about how we wanted music to be a large part of who your dragon was, because of the harper thing, of course, but also because we thought it would appeal to /you/. We were talking and talking, talking around it, trying to come up with a way to say what we saw her as, and we weren't having any luck. But then Laria remembered a little boy that she once knew:

'He was about two years old, maybe heading on toward three. He was a very magical, very wonderful, very present little boy. One day, he was walking down this long corridor, terrazzo floors. It was sort of echo-y. And he had a little thing of tic-tacs in a side pocket of his pants.

So, what he was doing, was walking down this hall, all by himself, and stomping his foot. Gently. He wasn't being annoying at all. But he liked the rattle of the tic-tacs, and that he could make it do something he wanted it to. And he had sort of a rhythm going. It was a beautiful thing to see.'

That, sweet Mardy, is how we see your dragon. Childlike, but not silly. Musical, but not crafted. She likes to make noises for the loveliness of it, for the rhythm of it. And sometimes it might not work out exactly as she plans, but she's got the heart for it.

That's something Mardy will always notice about her Ceolath that perhaps no one else ever willher song. She lives in a song, and if Mardy listens carefully, it can be faintly felt. When Ceolath speaks, it's often as plain as day to Mardy, though nobody else will get it. Watch her, and every movement is with the beatthe swing of her head, a flick of her tail, the wobble of outstretched wings as she carefully sways across your ledge. Her mood dictates the rhythm, her thoughts the notes—in fact, it /is/ her thoughts and emotions.

And then there's proddy.

If we liken Ceolath's normal state of being to a child making music with pots and pans, we could liken proddy to Stravinsky's Rite of Spring. It's a slow but rapidly building upswing, a cycle of tension, perturbation, excitement, swirling into a whirlwind that spins into the sky for short, intense flights. Her song becomes more complex, richer, deeper. It's a head trip of emotion and you better be ready to take off work for a day or so.

In fact, don't plan on doing anything but hiding out in your weyr with a stockpile of food, because her sensations will grow to blast force and mask your own thoughts almost an entire day beforehand.

Proddy, of course, is something that many people choose not to do on camera. We know how you don't like it (paper cuts and lemon juice, even, we think :P), so it's just here for a little guideline, for off-camera topics, if you like. :-)

Oh, Ceolath. In the story, the little mermaid is the youngest of her sisters; your lifemate might not be, but she'll always seem that way. She's by far the smallest in the clutch—tiny, dainty, almost fragile-looking.

For the first few months, her wings will seem far too large and her tail far too short for the rest of her, and that'll be a source of worry. » Is it supposed to be like this? « But as she matures, her tail will do so with her … and even though it may never match her magnificent wingspan, it's a graceful accompaniment to her sleek, feminine physique.

For color, hers is a wash of delicate sea green, paling to sea-foam cream under her belly and tail—not matte, but liquid. The ethereal hue suits her to a T, but it's her wings that really draw attention every time she spreads them out … and out … and out. Even when she's full-grown, they reach far longer than average for her length, and their curving upper expanse is subtly stamped with glass-clear hues that lightly catch the sunlight. Viewed from above, she's as unmistakable as a fish darting through the shallows.

And speaking of above, that will be one of Ceolath's favorite activities. Even before you're out of the barracks. » How much longer? « And when she does get up in the air, you'll be hard put to set her on the ground, or to get her to go ::between::. That horrid cold blacknessick! In her opinion, it's far better to fly straight and drink in the view, listen to the wind, feel the sun tingling along her wings. In fact, if she likes a certain spot, she's apt to circle there for up to a candlemark, just enjoying the sensations. That's when she regretfully submits to your requests to move onafter all, you can't just sweep this one part of the countryside … though you might want to vroom around in this flying Cadillac for a while longer.

Ceolath in flight is effortless, streamlined, and very quick. What she lacks in endurance she makes up with heartstopping agility.

On the ground, she's not as nimble, of course. But she's got grace. She doesn't just lumber—she's very precise, even if she doesn't cover as much ground as others might.

Her voice? Enchanting.

It has the clarity, the sweetness of harpstrings expertly stroked—not rich or throaty, but captivating in its own way. And she doesn't so much speak as /sing/ in your mind, a continuation, a crystallization of the song that she is, put into words that lilt and soar over you like dancing dolphins. Our little mermaid had the most beautiful voice in the world, which she gave up to be with her true love. In the same vein, Ceolath doesn't feel a need to speak to you. Oh, she'll willingly talk to other dragons, but for you, she has emotions, thoughts, images. It's something that's deeper and far more personal than speech.

Her mind's touch? It's that silky feel of water against your skin when you dive into a lagoon for the first time. And the scent of her mind is oceanspray, the aroma clean, unblemished salt water that tingles in your nose and makes you want to laugh.

Enjoy her. She's yours. She'll make you think, she'll make you laugh, she'll make you /live/.

She's the marvelous Ceolath.

Sire: Ranjith
Dam: Vyath
Egg: Keryn
Inspiration: K'rali, Laria

Note: Please pretend this inspiration was made with plasticine — you can always squish it into some other shape at will! You, and only you, know how to play your lifemate best.

Updated July 16, 2003 by Zephre

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