((Alright, I'm going to start, Timber can post her bio(s) any time though.))

Fen leapt carefully onto the next rock, leaning back slightly so he didn't slip off the front. Looking down, he saw he had a ways to go before he reached the bottom of the slope. Looking back up the hill side, he sighed in frustration-he had covered very little ground. Of course Fen didn't have to get down the slope, he could just as easily go back to his mother, who was resting a little ways up the large hill.

But the hill wasn't actually a hill. It was in fact, one side of the former volcano. This mountain had once spewn molten rock and ash into the ocean, then the lava cooled, forming new land. This process continued for around a thousand years, until the underwater volcano formed an island, who's size was unrivalled by any other in the world. Once the volcano calmed down enough for the land to grow habitable, and trees took root, the dragons had settled here. Every once ain while the volcano would erupt again (Much to the pleasure of the fire dragons), but then it fell silent once and for all.

The techtonic plate had shifted in a horrible earthquake, and for a few years, the hot spot in the Earth's mantle fought against the solid rock, until it broke free, and formed a new volcano. This new, young, and very powerful volcano still lived today, constantly sending lave flying into the air. The slope Fen was picking his way down, was littered with igneous rocks left behind from the lava flow that too, had once worked its way down this very slope, cutting a path to the ocean.

The rocks were warm, almost sticky feeling under Fen's feet as he hopped from stone to stone, trying not to trip and fall (that was how he had gotten down so far in the first place) again. He was still rather sore, and his white feathers were covered in filth, his mother would probably kill him later trying to get it off. It was slow, and painstaking work, but Fen was determined to get to the bottom. For if he did, he would be able to see the ocean! Oh how he loved the sound of the waves gently lapping against the shore.

I'll be dead though, if I don't get back before dark, mother will make sure of that, Fen thought uneasily, looking up at the sun. It was just past mid-day. Shifting his weight slightly, Fen stretched  out his wings. His mother had also forbidden him to fly. "You'll be too noticable!" she'd told him angrily when he inquired as to why he shouldn't. One of the other unusual things about Fen was his uncany ability to fly. All peacocks could fly of course, but being as small and light as he was, it was much easier for him. He could also use his tailfeathers to glide of he spread them out far enough.

Very suddenly, Fen found himself at the bottom of the old volcanic slope. Staring, slightly surprised, around himself, he realized that he had never seen this part of the island before. But he got the better of his instict to explore, and turned his attention instead to the cliff in front of him. The ocean! Fen hurried to the edge, but paused, rocking back and forward slightily on his feet in the breeze. If he got too close, he might be spotted by a water dragon. Sighing with the rythm of the wind, he closed his eyes, and let the sound of the ocean waves drag him into a sate of brief peace, at least before he had to return to his mother, all the way back up the slope.

---

Dria lifted her head lazily, enjoying the warmth of the autumn sun on her back scales. She had hidden her armor, bow and arrows in the grass under the lage leaf she was resting on. Bored, she now took the time to study the veins in the leaf, amusing herself by tracing them with her claws. Dria would be glad of an excuse to get up and hunt right now, but her late-night diving trip had left her weak and exhausted. The breeze was cruel, it kept blowing over her, as she had chosen a spot to rest were there were no leaves above her, and sending sand and dirt spiraling into her eyes.

Dria pawed her face, taking care not to scratch herself, as another cloud of sand was sent her way. Alright, that does it, I'm going hunting, she thought, irritated. 

Standing up, Dria stretched and yawned, exaggerating her yawn for no apparent reason, and leapt down lightly from her leaf. It took only a few seconds to replace the armor that she wore around the base of her neck and shoulderblades, and sling her bow over her shoulder. The bow was a useful tool, in keeping herself hidden, nobody had to see her, but she could still easily bring down prey. The armor would ensure that when she was flying, no other dragon could swoop down on her and paralyze her with a bite to her neck, if not kill her.

Dria decided to walk, rather than fly. She wasn't hunting anything in particular, and this way she could still enjoy the few patches of sunlight scattered over the dappled forest floor without baking herself in the sun's direct rays. The forest was still very green, which was surprising this late into autumn, even if it was a tropical region. Dria hummed to herself a little as she walked, sliding carefully through the thickening foliage. Bees and other insects created a droning sound in the background, and birdsong also contributed to the background noise. It was quite pleasant, really, to just walk in and out of the patches of sunlight, without a  care in the world.

A dragon's roar split the blissful peace and content feeling that had settled around Dria, and she scowled. Hearing a dragon wasn't uncommon, but it still wasn't a welcome sound in Dria's world. It always brought the thoughts 'Is it hunting me? Is it my mother? My sister?'  Dria never welcomed the sound of a dragon's roar, as it had often proceded the pain she would feel as another dragon descended on her, claws outstretched, jaws gaping.... Dria shuddered, and pushed the memory away. While she was out walking around, she might as well do something useful, like hunting.

With a swish of her tail, Dria slipped into the undergrowth, heading for the deep forest where she just might find a meal.

---

The forest floor felt very cold underneath Dria's feet. She had tried, and failed to catch a scrawny little rabbit, and she was rather put-out. Who would've eaten it anyway? she thought angrily to herself. As usual whenever she missed a kill, her thoughts came together to form the image of what she imagined her parents' might look like, with the words, 'None of this would have happened if you hadn't abandoned me!' printed across their faces.

Dria stomped angrily through the forest, making much more noise than she normally would. She was in a foul mood indeed when she finally stopped to rest near a small stream. The water was icy, leaving cold little droplets clinging to her whiskers. Dria's blue eyes flicked around curiously where she crouched, her pupils dialating excited whenever she spotted a particularly interesting plant, or a leaf that moved in the breeze.

Name: Tempest

Age: 550

Gender: Female

Personality: Tempest, while headstrong, stubborn and sarcastic is generally easy to get along with...if you can get her to trust you. She doesn't say much as Tempest believes she should save her breathe for those who actually deserves to hear her words. She's loyal to her friends and hate traitors. Her mood can change in a split second and Tempest sometimes has trouble controlling her temper.

Looks: The majority of Tempest's scales are emerald green but her spikes are more of a forest green. The softer scales on her belly range from mint green to olive. Tempest has her mother's eyes, or so she'd been told. Her eyes are the same colour as her scales with little gold flecks around her pupil.

History: Tempest was born an Earth dragon with a Water Dragon name. From an early age, Tempest had to learn to fend for herself as her parents were killed.

Family: Deceased

Rebel or Soldier? (If peacock or dragon): Rebel

Species (If dragon): Earth

Crush/Mate: N/A

Other: When she's in her human 'shell', Tempest is of average height with shoulder length black hair and green eyes. Tempest walks with a limp and slinks around like an alley cat.

Her cheek pressed uncomfortably against the cold stone, Tempest shifted in her sleep. Not for the first time, she was dreaming about her mother. It was always the same: her mother, with her lovely eyes gazed down at Tempest but then as if caught in a sudden storm she disappeared, leaving Tempest on her own. Still somewhat lost in the torment of her nightmares, Tempest scratched at an itchy spot on her back. She hated this human shell, with its long limbs and inability to fly. With a gusty sigh, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. The hands, the fingers felt foreign to Tempest. No matter how many times Tempest changed into her human form, the limbs and the absence of wings still befuddled her. l:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

       The bright sunlight felt good on Tempest’s sensitive skin and the air, tinged lightly with the smell of pines reminded her of home. Home was where trees grew, where ancient oaks reached for the sky and lime green ferns grew in clumps on the soft ground. Home was where Tempest could sleep undisturbed in a cluster of daisies with the sound of running water mulling her to sleep.

       Butterflies filled her stomach when Tempest thought of flying. She would give anything to soar effortlessly in the thermals, to catch rouge winds and make spectacular nosedives. She wanted to float amongst the clouds, chase after birds and pretend that nothing was wrong, that her world wasn’t thrown into chaos and that she was safe at home with her parents.

       But she wasn’t at home, her world wasn’t at peace and there was nothing anyone could do to bring her dead parents back.

       Taking up a brisk, if not hurried pace, Tempest set off into the forest. The rebels had been on the lookout for soldiers for the past few months. It had taken all her willpower not to curl up into a ball and shut herself off from the world. Shaking her head, Tempest willed herself to focus on the trees and the foliage. Trees were good. Trees helped calm her. Marveling at the way the sunlight dappled the ground, Tempest didn’t notice the small gathering of rebels until she almost ran into one of them.

       “Psst, Tempest!”

       Startled, Tempest looked up. It was a fellow Earth dragon, perched in a tree and looking like he was about to fall off.

       “What are you doing up there, Nathaniel?” Tempest hissed. Nathaniel said nothing; instead he pointed to her then pointed to a tree. Looking around, Tempest found herself in the midst of the rebels, all up in trees or crouched behind bushes. Without a second thought, Tempest pulled herself up the trunk and onto a sturdy branch. From her branch, Tempest could see someone or something creeping towards them, the sunlight glinting off their horns.

       Then it happened. In a flurry of motion, that someone or group of someones panicked and gave a great shout and the rebels surged forward. What happened next, Tempest didn’t know but all she saw was a rebel looming over a Fire dragon, prepared to kill.

((Do Rebels live together in groups or separate?))

((Heehee, see why I was being picky? I'd say that rebels would gather in groups when fighting, but would normally stay seperate, but stay in touch with each other. I mean, they're in hiding, so I think it would be a little too obvious if they lived in large groups. They may live in small groups too though.))

Fen was edging closer to the side of the cliff, intent on the sparkling water. But it seemed he'd ventured a little too close. With a groan, the cliff edge gave a mighty lurch, and started to crumble. Startled, Fen scrambled around, but a rock caught his wing. He gave a cry that he hadn't used in over a year, a sharp squawk, calling for his mother as his wing jerked painfully. The rocks were pelting him, he couldn't see for the dust in his eyes. Panic was surging through him, but another wave of loose rocks rolled over him, and dragged the white bird over the edge.

He was falling, the only good thing was that her seemed to have left his stomach back on the non-existent cliff edge. Otherwise, he thought he would have thrown up. The water seemed to race up to meet him, and with a splash, he was submerged in its icy tendrils. Having fallen from so high up, hitting the water felt like landing on stones. Fen looked quite ruffled, his waterlogged feathers stuck up at odd angles where they were plastered to his body. They were also dragging him down.

Fen gingerly spread his tailfeathers and his other wing, the one seemed incapable of movement. He was hoping he wasn't heavy enough to sink, but no peacock was built to swim. His best hope was that a rebel water dragon would happen across him by chance. He knew the odds of that were close to zero though, most rebels were in hiding.

Fen let himself tip forward, and kicked out with his hind legs. He moved about two inches through the water. Determined, he continued to lash out with his feet, and soon found himself gazing at the rocky stretch of land that he had always been told to avoid. It was where Soldiers were often stationed in order to keep an eye on the water dragons. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be anyone there at the moment.

When he finally flopped onshore, the sun was quite low in the sky. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm Fen as he lay, occasionally coughing up sea water. The waterlogged bird's feathers were at least no longer dirty. Groaning with the effort, Fen wobbled to his feet, and began to hobble towards the forest, about thirty feet in front of him.

---

Dria froze. She could hear the sounds of a fight breaking out somewhere to her right. Crouching even lower, she began to slide through the ferns, heading towards the sound of battle. After a short distance, she found herself looking in on a scene she had alway tried to avoid. In a clearing, two opposing sides of dragons were facing each other, snarling. It frightened Dria to see all the large adults of her own kind glaring at each other. Hatred was etched in the lines of many faces.

Yet she was somewhat awed by the power rippling through some of the dragons' gazes. She couldn't tell what side was what, but she thought the side that smelled more of earth might be the rebels. More of them were them were smaller than she would have expected, but to her, they still looked huge.

Dria looked up. There were large vines growing on the trees around her, if she could just get up into the canopy.... with a grunt, Dria flung herself onto the nearest tree, and began to work her way up the trunk, using the vines like ladders. Her climb was short-lived, once she reached the nearest leaf, she slid onto it, and settled herself. She was careful not to make noise that would draw the attention of the dragons below.