Lyra'nae Hawkmoon

Black hair
Purple eyes
5'8


The crack of the whip came down through the air in a loud rending sound. It echoed through the town square as it laid across her back, pulling the flesh open in wavy crossed strips. She gritted her teeth. She would not give them the satisfaction of crying. Of making a single noise. At the next crack, she felt the back of her shirt give way, and heard the gasp of the crowd. She knew what they were seeing. The fine emerald green scales that covered her left shoulder. Now they knew. Now they would kill her.

Vitaliya was a village with a long history of fear of dragons. And of those that could shift into them. It was forbidden to procreate with such creatures, and worse yet, create offspring. Yet here she stood. A slap in the face of all their rules.
The man in the hood came and removed her from the whipping post, her chains pulled in front of her as he walked her forward. She held her head high. Even though her hands trembled and the chains shook as she watched him pull that longsword. As he condemned her by name for being an abomination. Even as he brought the sword hurtling down she kept her head raised, those uncanny purple eyes locked on his. Then all Hells broke loose.

The blade sunk into her right shoulder, to the bone, and as much as she wanted to be strong, she couldn?t hold back the scream that tore from her lips at the unimaginable pain. She went to her knees, her world tilting as the blackness rushed in on her. She didn?t even notice as the large black dragon swooped down burning everything and everyone around her to ash.