Welcome to Gaia! ::

The sunlight sparkled from the surface, leaving trails of refracted light filtering down to Ring's position. He floated in the water, coiled, suspended on an invisible string. His eyes were closed and he was at peace.
Then he whistled, a quiet, cheerful sound, and dove further into the ocean. Below him, there were ruins of the past civilizations, lost land-dwellers' buildings and items. A few bones. But that was expected. When people die, they leave bones and things.
Ring was only interested in the shiny things.

Oh... Something is down there, in that opening...

The small dragon coursed through the water, darting perfectly into the square opening of a window. There was a tiny orb, a crystal ball. It could be said that whoever lived in this building before the Sinking was a medium... Or just enjoyed the shiny object as much as Ring did. He let out a thrilled trill, clutching the orb tightly in his claws. It felt cool. Cold. Abnormally cold.
But Ring didn't think anything of it. He kicked his hind-talons, tail thrashing behind him, and swam back to the sparkling light at the surface. He broke water, floating for a moment to locate his island. Yes.

My island...

It was a tiny speck on the horizon, and not much bigger up close. But there was a small makeshift shelter, shade from the sun, and a neat storage cubby dug into the side of a large rock. The rocks made up the majority of the island, cold and gray, but there was some sand, though it eroded little by little each day. His shelter would soon join the rest down at the bottom of the ocean. It made him sad...But there were always other places to go.

He walked to his cubby, his form changing gracefully from scales to flesh, bright blue eyes and black hair. A simple garb that he had found floating on a body one day. He laid the boy to rest, keeping and repairing the clothes for his own human guise. Every dragon had it. His wasn't perfect. Fins protruded and wiggled behind his ears. It didn't bother him... He usually pulled the hood of his jacket up over them. They could flatten enough that no one would notice.
If there ever was anyone nearby.

There never is... So empty.

Ring sighed, and even that was a little melodic. He set the crystal ball in the cubby, next to other shimmering objects-- mirrors, pieces of colored glass, broken vases, jewelry, stones (precious and otherwise). He collected it all.

Then he turned, without much warning, and stared at the horizon. Blue, everwhere. Except where clouds covered the sky. It was black water, there. Dark and angry. He bit his lip, turning back to his treasures. There was a bag he always kept nearby, for such purposes. He quickly began to stuff the items in the bag just as the wind started to pick up.
Even though the world was bare and covered in water, storms still hit. And this one hit fast and hard.

He had just finished tying the bag shut when the winds really began to toss around. His wooden shelter, made from driftwood and pieces from the ruins he could use, toppled over into the water. He cried out, a piercing high note, but held on tight to his treasures. A dragon never let anything happen to his treasure.
The wind threw sand, wood, and even a few small rocks. One such piece of flying wood smacked Ring in the head, throwing him back into the ocean, and out of consciousness.
He drifted, sinking, his bag of shinies still held in one hand.