HOME | DD

Description

Nordmoroz and Moroznaya, my Icedragon OC's, flying over the mountains together.

(Castle art supplies Soft Touch pencils and Watercolor pencils for the dragons. Koh-I-Noor 5.6mm artists' leads for the backgound) Base by Peregrinecella

More pictures of the Icewings here: www.deviantart.com/sabretoothe…

See below for the backstory of how Nordmoroz lost his leg.

At last the storm had subsided. Nordmoroz stood up, finally able to leave the partial shelter he had been afforded by an outcrop of rock. He looked around him at the now unfamiliar landscape, it's appearance changed by the freshly fallen layer of snow that covered the ground like a featureless white blanket. It didn't matter; he knew where he was. He was an Icewing: at least his mother was. His father had been a Nightwing, part of a raiding party that found her and.... He hated Nightwings! He was a mighty ice dragon, even if the purebreds didn't always see it that way. As such, he was used to the weather and what it could do. His own sense of direction, an age old instinct embedded in all who lived in this vast white wilderness, would guide him home. He picked up the dead Yak, the fruitage of the hunting trip that he was now returning from, and started to make his way home.

The ice chilled wind whipped up small clouds of loose snow with the sole purpose of throwing it in Nordmoroz' face, or at least that's how it seemed; it annoyed him. To take his mind off it he thought about his mate Moroznaya. He could picture her sitting on the nest waiting for him to return with their food. He picked up his pace, eager to see her again, eager to share his meal.

Nordmoroz and Moroznaya had made their home on a large ledge that jutted out from the otherwise shear side of one of the many mountains that encircled the region. There were no caves there, but it was nearly impossible to climb to and, being on the lea side of the mountain, it was sheltered from all but the most determined of the winds that frequently blew.

Nordmoroz approached the cliff from the windward side of the mountain, the side that faced the great frozen wilderness where he hunted. As he reached the edge of the cliff, he unfurled his great wings and looked over the edge, ready to take to the air and make his descent.
To his horror he saw three black Nightwings attacking his beautiful mate Moroznaya: three filthy, rotten nest raiders! Rage blew up inside him like a volcano erupting. He dropped the now forgotten Yak and hurled himself off the cliff towards the assailants below.

Down on the ledge Moroznaya was desperately trying to protect her nest and the single, fragile egg that resided within it. Her attackers were seasoned fighters: She was outnumbered and outclassed. She knew it too, but she had a mother's instinct. She would fight to the very end if she had to.

Desperate to reach her in time, Nordmoroz chose a risky strategy. Instead of flying down to the ledge, he had simply thrown himself off the cliff top. With his wings furled behind him he plummeted towards the fighting dragons. As he fell he selected whom he thought to be the leader and steered himself towards him. At the last second he flicked open his wings and flipped himself lengthways, extending his hind legs and claws like a mighty bird of prey. The dragons on the ledge, distracted by fighting and oblivious to his rapid approach, jumped back in surprise as he hit his target, the largest of the three Nightwings. The impact was so great that it smashed it into the ground, breaking it's back and shattering it's ribs. It's death was almost instant. Driven on by anger and adrenaline, Nordmoroz lurched forward at the nearest surviving Nightwing. He grabbed it's neck in his jaws and began to struggle with it for position. With a flap of its wings the third Nightwing leapt into the air and dove towards Nordmoroz, aiming to strike him from behind. Unfortunately he'd made a mistake; he'd forgotten about Moroznaya. She lunged towards him, catching his tail as he passed her. The Nightwing's flight came to an abrupt end as he slammed into the ground, kicking up a cloud of snow around him.
Deep within Nordmoroz' stomach chemicals, triggered by the surge of adrenaline, started to flow up into his throat. As his chest started to rise the Nightwing he held so tightly in his jaws realised the predicament it was in. It began to struggle all the more violently as it tried to escape. Nordmoroz didn't let go. Instead he drew a breath through his nostrils and then exhaled. The air rushed out of his lungs, mixed with the chemicals from his stomach, and ignited. Cold blue flames bellowed out through the gaps between his teeth and engulfed the neck and head of the Nightwing he held so determinedly. From within the fire cloud the Nightwing screamed out. Wrenching itself clear, it staggered back in panic, and fell burning off the ledge to its death.
Across from the fight, the third Nightwing was just picking himself up off the ground. With the situation now turned against him, he was quickly losing the will to continue. A moment later he'd lost the ability to walk too. Moroznaya's ice breath had frozen his rear legs and tail. Panicking, the Nightwing began to draw breath in a last ditch attempt to kill his attackers. Nordmoroz jumped forward and pushed the Nightwing's head up with his shoulder so that the jet of fire spewed harmlessly skywards. Moroznaya saw an opportunity and, running up to the Nightwing, she began to push. Unable to grip the icy ground or even use it's hind legs to push back, the Nightwing began to slip backwards towards the edge of the ledge. Moroznaya had no such restrictions. Her claws bit deep into the ice, giving her all the purchase she needed to push the stricken Nightwing slowly closer to its demise. As the Nightwing slipped over the edge it unfurled its wings and attempted to roll away from the cliff and fly. However without the use of it's rear legs and tail it quickly found that it was unable to steady and steer itself properly and, despite it's frantic efforts, it began to tumble; an ugly, ungraceful tumble from which it couldn't recover.

Back on the ledge Moroznaya now turned her attention to the nest, the apparent target of the attack. Her worst fears were realised; it was destroyed. The egg lay shattered among the debris and in the middle of it all lay the tiny, lifeless form of her unhatched child. Moroznaya raised herself erect, spread her wings, looked to the sky and let out a long, painful scream that echoed off the cliffs around her. As her cry faded, she looked round, suddenly wondering why her usually thoughtful and supportive mate wasn't by her side to comfort her.

"Nordmoroz!" she called out as she turned and rushed over to the great, motionless heap that lay across from her on the ledge. He didn't respond. For the first time she noticed his hind leg, twisted, torn and disfigured. He'd broken it in the impact with the first Nightwing, but thanks to the sheer amount of adrenaline within him, it had gone almost unnoticed, a minor concern beside the desire to protect his mate and their unhatched child. Now, with his body returning to normal, the pain had broken through with a vengeance, and Nordmoroz lay where he had fallen, unable to move or even think straight. Moroznaya nudged him tentatively, fearing the worst. To her relief he twitched and moved slightly; he was still alive!
Moroznaya wanted to mourn, but not for both of them.
"Don't worry my dear," she said softly.
"I'll go fetch Balsam. He's a physician; he'll know what to do."

Description

Nordmoroz and Moroznaya, my Icedragon OC's, flying over the mountains together.

(Castle art supplies Soft Touch pencils and Watercolor pencils for the dragons. Koh-I-Noor 5.6mm artists' leads for the backgound) Base by Peregrinecella

More pictures of the Icewings here: www.deviantart.com/sabretoothe…

See below for the backstory of how Nordmoroz lost his leg.

At last the storm had subsided. Nordmoroz stood up, finally able to leave the partial shelter he had been afforded by an outcrop of rock. He looked around him at the now unfamiliar landscape, it's appearance changed by the freshly fallen layer of snow that covered the ground like a featureless white blanket. It didn't matter; he knew where he was. He was an Icewing: at least his mother was. His father had been a Nightwing, part of a raiding party that found her and.... He hated Nightwings! He was a mighty ice dragon, even if the purebreds didn't always see it that way. As such, he was used to the weather and what it could do. His own sense of direction, an age old instinct embedded in all who lived in this vast white wilderness, would guide him home. He picked up the dead Yak, the fruitage of the hunting trip that he was now returning from, and started to make his way home.

The ice chilled wind whipped up small clouds of loose snow with the sole purpose of throwing it in Nordmoroz' face, or at least that's how it seemed; it annoyed him. To take his mind off it he thought about his mate Moroznaya. He could picture her sitting on the nest waiting for him to return with their food. He picked up his pace, eager to see her again, eager to share his meal.

Nordmoroz and Moroznaya had made their home on a large ledge that jutted out from the otherwise shear side of one of the many mountains that encircled the region. There were no caves there, but it was nearly impossible to climb to and, being on the lea side of the mountain, it was sheltered from all but the most determined of the winds that frequently blew.

Nordmoroz approached the cliff from the windward side of the mountain, the side that faced the great frozen wilderness where he hunted. As he reached the edge of the cliff, he unfurled his great wings and looked over the edge, ready to take to the air and make his descent.
To his horror he saw three black Nightwings attacking his beautiful mate Moroznaya: three filthy, rotten nest raiders! Rage blew up inside him like a volcano erupting. He dropped the now forgotten Yak and hurled himself off the cliff towards the assailants below.

Down on the ledge Moroznaya was desperately trying to protect her nest and the single, fragile egg that resided within it. Her attackers were seasoned fighters: She was outnumbered and outclassed. She knew it too, but she had a mother's instinct. She would fight to the very end if she had to.

Desperate to reach her in time, Nordmoroz chose a risky strategy. Instead of flying down to the ledge, he had simply thrown himself off the cliff top. With his wings furled behind him he plummeted towards the fighting dragons. As he fell he selected whom he thought to be the leader and steered himself towards him. At the last second he flicked open his wings and flipped himself lengthways, extending his hind legs and claws like a mighty bird of prey. The dragons on the ledge, distracted by fighting and oblivious to his rapid approach, jumped back in surprise as he hit his target, the largest of the three Nightwings. The impact was so great that it smashed it into the ground, breaking it's back and shattering it's ribs. It's death was almost instant. Driven on by anger and adrenaline, Nordmoroz lurched forward at the nearest surviving Nightwing. He grabbed it's neck in his jaws and began to struggle with it for position. With a flap of its wings the third Nightwing leapt into the air and dove towards Nordmoroz, aiming to strike him from behind. Unfortunately he'd made a mistake; he'd forgotten about Moroznaya. She lunged towards him, catching his tail as he passed her. The Nightwing's flight came to an abrupt end as he slammed into the ground, kicking up a cloud of snow around him.
Deep within Nordmoroz' stomach chemicals, triggered by the surge of adrenaline, started to flow up into his throat. As his chest started to rise the Nightwing he held so tightly in his jaws realised the predicament it was in. It began to struggle all the more violently as it tried to escape. Nordmoroz didn't let go. Instead he drew a breath through his nostrils and then exhaled. The air rushed out of his lungs, mixed with the chemicals from his stomach, and ignited. Cold blue flames bellowed out through the gaps between his teeth and engulfed the neck and head of the Nightwing he held so determinedly. From within the fire cloud the Nightwing screamed out. Wrenching itself clear, it staggered back in panic, and fell burning off the ledge to its death.
Across from the fight, the third Nightwing was just picking himself up off the ground. With the situation now turned against him, he was quickly losing the will to continue. A moment later he'd lost the ability to walk too. Moroznaya's ice breath had frozen his rear legs and tail. Panicking, the Nightwing began to draw breath in a last ditch attempt to kill his attackers. Nordmoroz jumped forward and pushed the Nightwing's head up with his shoulder so that the jet of fire spewed harmlessly skywards. Moroznaya saw an opportunity and, running up to the Nightwing, she began to push. Unable to grip the icy ground or even use it's hind legs to push back, the Nightwing began to slip backwards towards the edge of the ledge. Moroznaya had no such restrictions. Her claws bit deep into the ice, giving her all the purchase she needed to push the stricken Nightwing slowly closer to its demise. As the Nightwing slipped over the edge it unfurled its wings and attempted to roll away from the cliff and fly. However without the use of it's rear legs and tail it quickly found that it was unable to steady and steer itself properly and, despite it's frantic efforts, it began to tumble; an ugly, ungraceful tumble from which it couldn't recover.

Back on the ledge Moroznaya now turned her attention to the nest, the apparent target of the attack. Her worst fears were realised; it was destroyed. The egg lay shattered among the debris and in the middle of it all lay the tiny, lifeless form of her unhatched child. Moroznaya raised herself erect, spread her wings, looked to the sky and let out a long, painful scream that echoed off the cliffs around her. As her cry faded, she looked round, suddenly wondering why her usually thoughtful and supportive mate wasn't by her side to comfort her.

"Nordmoroz!" she called out as she turned and rushed over to the great, motionless heap that lay across from her on the ledge. He didn't respond. For the first time she noticed his hind leg, twisted, torn and disfigured. He'd broken it in the impact with the first Nightwing, but thanks to the sheer amount of adrenaline within him, it had gone almost unnoticed, a minor concern beside the desire to protect his mate and their unhatched child. Now, with his body returning to normal, the pain had broken through with a vengeance, and Nordmoroz lay where he had fallen, unable to move or even think straight. Moroznaya nudged him tentatively, fearing the worst. To her relief he twitched and moved slightly; he was still alive!
Moroznaya wanted to mourn, but not for both of them.
"Don't worry my dear," she said softly.
"I'll go fetch Balsam. He's a physician; he'll know what to do."