The Snowdrop Snap is among the earliest dragons to stir each year. While frost still clings to fallen oak leaves and the earth remembers the rigidity of ice, it pushes quietly through the cold.

Its scales are the colour of ewe's milk, marked with green at the edges like the heart of a snowdrop's bell. Its eyes shine with thaw water, and its feet leave no prints, only the certainty that something has already begun to grow.

Unlike brighter breeds, the Snowdrop Snap does not gather crowds. It prefers hedgerows, old churchyards, and the roots of ancient trees, where it keeps watch over the first brave blossoms. Those fortunate enough to find one during a hunt are said not to receive luck exactly, but something quieter: the courage to believe in the return of brighter, lighter days before there is proof of it.

The guild are warned against plucking the flowers that shelter it. The Snap is fiercely protective of beginnings. It understands that the smallest green thing breaking frozen ground is sometimes the strongest magic in the world.