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With naught but the kiss of breeze in passing, the hushed bell-like tinkling in fight, or the faint tapping of talon-to-stone to betray him, Mugetsu was undoubtedly a creature of the night, and a strange one, at that. With scales the colour of dark angola granite - banded with lighter streaks and whorls like smoke, spatterings like little stars - and a belly of soot, the dragon's seemingly perfect camouflage was broken quite strongly by the numerous, luminous colours that streaked along his form. Lengthy fur made up his mane and beard, appearing again at the joints of his limbs, his chest, upper belly, and again, even, at the voluminous tufty plume along the end of his lengthy tail and whiskers. A rich midnight blue by default, streaks of wildly-neon cyan and electric blue flitted and flowed down the strands rather radiantly; they churned and swirled lazily, fitting, for how relaxed the beast seemed.
Mist-like smoke often curled and plumed from his nostrils and jaws, though he was hardly a firebreather. It, too, shared a slightly cool hue to it, and was hardly choking or foul-smelling at all.. beyond that natural unpleasantness of his breath, that is. It often enwreathed his head, lapping and trailing from his first pair of horns: great, spire-like things that twisted and curled like that of a Kudu's. Ridged and rigid, they held a strong shine to them that made them appear as delicate as glass, however far from the truth it was. A second pair -- smaller, set beneath, and much like antlers -- shared that same eerie glow as the fur on his body, until they appeared almost like a protuberance of pure, solid light. Boasting great, sharp teeth, a few curved slightly outward -- even with his jaw closed and at rest -- almost like tusks; combined with his horns, they gave to him a decidedly fierce appearance, a counterpoint to his behaviours.
His voice was like the tolling of many bells, his laughter like peal of thunder. There was an ancient sagacity to his eyes; a keen glint of aged wisdom that lent his gaze a particular weight to it, heavy and appraising, judging in its own way.
During precipitation, be it rain, sleet, or snow, lightning takes to dancing along his form in jolts and free-spirited loops, arcing between his horns, down his back, and between his claws; even mingling among his jaws and those plumes of smoke, though they'd never discharge harmfully. A strange effect, for it occurs even while indoors, in the Tub.
AND NOW AN IMAGE:
