Known only as 'The Egg Collector,' she travels the world collecting sylesti eggs from cruel or neglectful parents and trainers and leaves them where they will be cared for by those who will cherish and care for them as if they were their own children.

After a long day of exploring and roughhousing with her friends, this character is enjoying a nice, dark chocolate-cherry draeyl popsicle on her front porch while watching the fireflies.

The Ocean Oracle:


If you walk along the shore under the full moon of summer, and your destiny is great...
The Ocean Oracle may show you your fate!

[FutureEditPlacer]I plan on putting a corresponding poem of mine here... but I'm having trouble finding it ATM....

Long ago, when the world was still young, there was light after the sun dipped below the horizon. There were no stars in the night-sky, leaving only the moon to light our way. It was a time for locked doors and barred windows. Life continued this way for over a millenia when a strange woman apeared one summer. She brought the stars down from the heavens one by one until eventully our night sky was filled with thousands of sparkling lights that continue to shine to this day.

Enclosed with this document is a painting done by one of the witnesses to this amazing event.

Okay ^^ thanks Just wanted to ask

PARDON THE PING

|:| `` Silvery Tide Guardian `` |:|

Rarely found skimming delicately a top of the silvery waters when the tide returns to the shore, she helps the fish who have gotten stuck within the crevices of coral and holes to reach the water once again. Though she roams for the short nights when the moon is full and is reflecting its cool smile onto the water, to celebrate. So she is most often found then when she is dancing atop of the waves. Though still is playfully elusive.

THE DRYAD AND THE SUMMER'S CROW



there was a dryad
beautiful was she
valiantly depicted
warm as can be

sent on a quest
for the summer's crow
flew by a tempest
and it began to snow

summer solstice would never come
lest that dryad find the bird
under rocks she looked; through the sea she swum
look up; the thought never occurred

find that bird she never did
weary and tired
from the gods she hid and hid
winter twas eternal; summer now retired

the crow laughed and jested
knowing he had bested
the one and only Freya
into inescapable hysteria

...

A tall, well built woman stands before you. Her feet like that of nimble roots, her hair of fire, and her dress of leaves. She quietly snatched the poem from your shaky hands, burning it with a simple glance of her fiery like eyes. "What is this?" She hissed, spraying ocean foam across your face. Upon her wrist perched a golden crow, it's feathers dazzling like a thousand suns. It glares at you, it's crimson eyes narrowed. Neither spirits seemed happy with your work, and leave with out a word.

So much for that promotion.