Desert Bloom [open]

The Smiling Sands were largely unchanged it seemed, though Quinnsing checked often none the less. He knew that the more major changes to the land were usually preceded by a great deal of announcement and debate with Ichor, wishing to have the input of those she called her creations first, but other changes, ones done by bloblings themselves, were not. Cities had begun rising up, and while not many could compare to the pristine splendor of Reinala's reclusive mountain home, the land that had been made by bloblings, taught first by B, then by each other, was nothing to scoff at.

Though Quinnsing still had a decided... distaste of it. No, it wasn't quite the word. He didn't despise it, it was interesting, just... not for him. He had heard of the homes in Onyxia, been invited even by a few cheery bloblings when stalking the Library or circling the Arena, watching bloblings battle within. But he found no interest and no love in the idea of dwelling there. He knew, inside, that he wanted a place to dwell, to build and mark as his own, but it needed to be the right place, the right time. It needed to be done by his own claws.

The question was a matter of where and when, two questions he could not answer with a definitive positive, only with hesitant negatives. So Quinnsing roamed still, wandering the land. The wind at his wings kept him afloat easily, and the warmth of the sands, or perhaps the stars above, warmed him, but beyond the occasional prismerine or chromallia, there was only emptiness and sand, stretching out.

It was called Smiley Sands, but it had always seemed a desolate landscape once one was away from the hubs of blobling life, in Quinnsing's observations. Many of the landscapes were, only a few seemed to thrive with natural life. And though they were some of the more active regions, he had little love of swimming, nor a body yet adapted to such travel for extensive periods of time like he could through land and sky.

A flower, blooming and bright, caught sharp eyes, and with a cock of his head, Quinnsing shifted, wings dipping to turn down towards the earth. It was a bright color, almost hidden under a sad and lonely chromillia, but the bloom itself was not one he recognized, especially not from the desert landscape. Circling, his shadow draped across the sand as a large draconic figure alighted, paws and claws digging into sand as a long and heavy tail snaked behind him. He was large compared to most bloblings at the moment, though far from the largest he could be. He had been trying to push his 'ability' to change his shape further and further, studying, searching, and trying what he could. He had learned it was possible to change his size, and with much more effort and working around the natural evolution season, to make a second form he could shift into and out of outside of the evolution season.

It was helpful, when dealing with other bloblings, or in situations where he needed more dexterity then his 'natural' body allowed.

Quinnsing approached the flower, a head cocked and ears pricked forward above his antlered crown, wings folding back as his long neck bent whiskers curling as he moved to sniff at and examine it. Was this a new creation?