Post by nightingale on Apr 27, 2009 13:34:44 GMT -5
Name: S'van (formerly Serivan)
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Rank: Bluerider
Physical Appearance: S'van most closely resembles an awkward teenager who never really outgrew his awkward phase. He stands at just under five feet six inches, which is probably for the best because if he were any taller then he might be almost dangerously thin. There is absolutely no extra weight on his thin frame, and his bones are visible wherever his lean muscles and numerous scars are not. S'van will never be a large man, but feminine would not be an accurate description. If anything, he simply looks very young for his age.
His fine black hair is short and haphazardly sheared off at a number of different lengths, suggesting that he probably cuts it himself. It has a tendency to get greasy very quickly when he is hot or physically active -forget about when he decides he's too tired to wash it. His eyes are a pale shade of yellow-brown that are more attractive from a distance than they are up close. His face is winter-pale and narrow, with sharp features that would be quite expressive if he ever put them to good use. He is almost always wearing the sort of uninterested scowl that could be taken as threatening in a pinch, but more often is viewed as simple unpleasantness.
Even in the middle of the summer you're likely to find S'van wearing dark, long sleeved clothing. Short sleeved garments are not common in the north, and he's still getting used to the idea of wearing them now that he's a southerner. He prefers loose wool clothing that that makes is easy to to conceal a blade or two. You'll be hard pressed to find him unarmed, and that includes when he's bathing and sleeping. He takes very special care to ensure that there is always something sharp within his reach.
Personality: Were S'van lacking anything in size -an accusation which he fervently denies- he would more than make up for it in fearless tenacity. While serving at Benden, he was the one you called when you had a dangerous task that nobody else was foolish enough to take on. Assassinations, breaking and entering, spying and sabotage are all listed neatly on his resume, and he doesn't regret a single one of them. Having been forced into doing a lot of things that he isn't proud of, S'van has learned to rationalize and justify many acts that would be considered unforgivable by others for the sake of maintaining his sanity.
He looks out for himself and his dragon first and foremost. Should he have the time or inclination he may then decide to look out for someone else, but these bouts of chivalry are few and far between. He does not trust other riders, but is especially wary of brown and bronzeriders. The heterosexual men he's used to dealing with are cruel people who revel in abusing women and any man who so much as hints at being attracted to his own gender. He manged to keep his sexuality well concealed during the time he spent at Benden, but the fear of being discovered has always been with him, and with it a fear of the people who would seek to punish him for it.
If one does manage to work their way past the barbed wire and razorblades, S'van really is a decent sort of person. His life has been a challenge thus far and it's affected him deeply, but that's not to say that a change of scenery won't coax his softer side out of hiding. Though one would be loath to guess by looking at him, he is capable of feeling a wide range of emotions deeply and passionately. When they do manage to bubble to the surface they can be almost frightening in their intensity, but the emotions he typically shows are nothing more than aftershocks caused the feelings he knows better than to express.
History: Born Serivan to Serina and M'van of Benden Weyr, his childhood mirrored that of many children born in the north under less than ideal circumstances. S'van was an illegitimate child, conceived between a young brownrider and his favourite drudge by what would have been considered rape had Serina not so fervently argued to the contrary. She was meek and naive, a dreamer with a broken heart who looked for love in all the wrong places. When M'van discovered she was pregnant, he wasted no time in sending her away and severing all contact. Having the man she considered to be her true love abandon her was too much for Serina to handle. Serivan spent much of his childhood hungry and alone, save for his mother's wine-soaked sobbing over the life she could have had if only she'd never bore him.
Being both small and unimportant, it was easy for Serivan to assure he went unnoticed when the harpers went around to gather students. He spent his days working any job he could find. With his mother drinking whatever marks she brought home -earned first from odd jobs, then through what she called 'adult favours'- the only way he could ensure that he stayed fed was to take the initiative in earning his own wage. When there was no work to be done, he was not above stealing. He lived out much of his bleak childhood this way, and things probably would have stayed the same had he not been searched as a candidate. Benden Weyr was a change from the life he knew, but weather the change was good is up for debate. His roommates were of the opinion that he made for a good plaything, punching bag and all around scapegoat. It was four years before his dragon was clutched.
S'van acquired his new name when he impressed blue Rifashth -smallest of his clutch and sweetest of them all- in his fifteenth turn. Forsaking all claims to the life he had known before, the tiny blue instantly became the world to him. For the next seven years they faced Threadfall, greenflights, vicious battles and at times their own Weyr as an inseparable pair. Their superiors eventually took note of their size and fighting skill, and they were drafted into service under F'rel as part of his 'darter squad'. There were seven of them -a group of fast and agile warriors who specialized in bypassing heavy defenses. They drilled using captured Fort dragons, and to this day S'van can remember the sounds the made when their throats we cut. Halfway between a sob and a scream, you could hear a rider's heart breaking in their dragon's deathsong.
Shortly after he turned twenty two, word came that they were being dispatched to make an attack on Selenitas Weyr in the south. S'van and Rifashth knew little of this Weyr, but had learned early on to place their own welfare above that of strangers, and so they did not question the order. During the attack, the darter squad was dispatched to take out a group of Selenitas weyrlings who had barricaded themselves inside their living quarters. He managed to break past the weyrling dragons unscathed and injure one of the girls, but he was caught and maimed by her dragon shortly thereafter. The weyrling used him as leverage to tempt Rifashth into attacking their wingleader, promising his safety if his dragon chose to sacrifice himself to their cause. Thankfully, F'rel was killed only moments after the request was made, and they were called back to Benden. The Selenitas weyrling returned him to Rifashth honourably, and they left to rejoin their wing.
Somewhere, there had been a leak. In an attempt to save his rider, Rifashth had told the weyrling blue that their riders were circling around to attack through the upper windows of their hideout. As they flew to rejoin their wing, a pair of greens descended on them. They were called traitors, and were assigned the resulting death penalty without trial or fanfare. Had it not been for the rain, the bluepair would certainly have been killed. One of the greens managed to tear Rifashth's left wing, but the storm took a sudden turn for the worst and sent all three dragons spiraling across the sky. This bought Rifashth the precious seconds he needed to slip Between and escape. The bluepair spent a miserable night in the jungle, freezing, wounded, and hungry before they made the decision to return to Selenitas Weyr. Death waited for them at Benden, and it stalked them now through the jungle foliage as their strength faded. With the weyrfolk of Selenitas, there was at least a chance for mercy. When the sky lightened to a cheerless grey above them, they began the long walk to what they knew was their only hope.
Name: Rifashth
Color: Blue (#9999FF/4E3E57)
Age: Seven Turns
Physical Appearance: This is a very small blue. Minuscule when compared to others of his colour, this dragon will only be considered of average size when standing among greens. Thankfully, he has no particularly effeminate features that might complete the illusion of his being a very strangely coloured green. Rifashth is a well muscled blue with a strong, almost blunt face and broad chest. His wings are strong and fit his body perfectly, making him quite graceful when airborne. However, this blue lacks the stamina that most of his colour posses, and so will not be able to fly through an entire Threadfall without completely exhausting himself. Because his was a heavily drugged clutch, Rifashth sports his Benden heritage in a noticeable lack of neck spines and a right forepaw with only three large digits.
Rifashth is a shade of cloudy blue that provides camouflage against a sky of almost any colour. A full mask of grey-violet covers his face and runs to the back of his neck, omitting only his bottom jaw which remains cloudy blue. Something of a stocking decorates his left forepaw, starting out solid and separating into bands of varying widths as it approaches his knee. The pattern looks unfinished or perhaps worn away, as there are a number of gaps and smears to lend it a weathered appearance. The same can be said for the feathered bands running intermittently down the length of his tail. Like paint that has seen too many hard winters, the pattern is flecked off in places to reveal the pale blue underneath. More than a few scars can be seen traced along his flanks.
Personality: As his rider lives for him, so too does Rifashth live for S'van. Unlike most dragons, he takes on a supporting rather than a defensive role where the young man is concerned. He offers him love and reassurance when he cannot offer his voice, for he is well aware that is is impossible to protect his from all the dangers and pains of the world. This blue's strong and quiet demeanor was bred into him for the sole purpose of serving under the dragons at Benden. He's really quite an open and inquisitive fellow once you get to know him, and loves both science and philosophy. Given adequate chance he will talk for hours on a topic of his fancy, only stopping when hunger bids him visit the feeding grounds.
Rifashth has spent his entire life in wordless submission, and so it is only natural that this blue avoids conflict wherever he can. He would sooner admit to a crime he didn't commit than throw up a fuss about it, and tends to apologize needlessly. Should someone take an interest in manipulating or otherwise taking advantage of him, they will meet little resistance. This is due to his submissive nature and not his nativity, for he is quite good at reading others and picking up on their true motivations. He is not a very competitive dragon, and while he enjoys the occasional greenflight he never really takes them seriously. The greens he catches my become his friends if they share his laid-back attitude, but he is not the sort of male who will dote upon his mate. In fact, he will be quick to distance himself if she becomes too possessive or clingy.
Name: Fat Bastard
Looks to: S'van
Species: Firelizard
Color: Bronze (#c0b707)
Age: Hatchling
Physical Appearance: In a word, this firelizard is fat. There’s no other way to say it, no nicer way to phrase it – he is definitely, undeniably fat. Since his very Hatching, he’ll be chubby – and he won’t be getting any skinnier with time. Indeed, soon enough, he’ll look positively ridiculous; it will be very, very hard to take this bronze seriously, because he’s extremely roly-poly, without even the excuse of being extremely well-muscled. With short, stubby legs, and a neck to match, this bronze firelizard looks almost as if he’s incapable of moving – fortunately, nature seems to have taken pity upon him, for his wings are positively huge. Were he not so fat, this bronze would actually be small – and his wings look capable of holding up a firelizard gold if necessary. However, they can just barely support his weight as it is, and he’ll look hilarious trying to get into the air to begin with – and if his Bonded doesn’t watch out, it’s fully possible he’ll end up being able to bounce upon landing. No matter how much exercise goes into him, none of his fat will ever leave him, more’s the pity…but at least it’s possible to keep his weight static…?
His coloring would actually be very attractive had it been on a…fitter…firelizard. A golden bronze shade covers his body, and very distinctly metallic is he; in the right light, he’ll positively glow, especially if His has taken the time to oil him and bathe him, but even without, he has a perpetual gleam to his hide. Darker, mossy bronze accents his wings, streaks melting flawlessly into the brighter golden shade, muted, almost invisible unless the sun strikes them just right. Along his back, “c”-shaped markings in the same darker bronze, though there is no fading, making the difference between gold and mossy much more noticeable, run down this bronze’s spine, ending halfway down his tail, while the first one curves towards his wings, exactly on top of his last neck ridge. In a last, rather feminine touch, this firelizard’s eyelids are a very light, reddish-bronze color – eye shadow, anyone?
Personality: In a word: This fire lizard is extremely cold. Intolerant of other flits to the point of actively avoiding them most of the time, it could be said that this little male is very antisocial. He doesn’t chirp or chatter much, but what little he bothers with, he means. While his appearance is anything but serious, his personality more than makes up for it -- just because he’s on the chubby side doesn’t mean that he’s not fully capable of driving his point home. He’s a vicious fire lizard when trying to make a point and rather than gentle nips and nudging that most of his kind are capable of, this little guy can and will take out entire finger mobility all in one clean swoop to prove his point. Do not test his patience, for he has very little of it and will not at all accept disobedience. When he actually makes a request (of any kind it will be rare), he expects to be listened to. Fortunately, he’s a creature of logic and reason - he’s rational, almost alarmingly so for a fire lizard, and he won’t ever ask anything that’s not to the utmost benefit of his bonded, whether they realize or not. He’s not the type to pester his chosen for anything other than the utmost necessity. He prefers to sit and be observe.
Yes, observant: That’s another of this fire lizard’s key traits. While he is very efficient in driving home a point and remarkably intelligent, the most dominant of this bronze’s behavioral patterns is that he’s… well, he likes to people-watch. He’ll sit and gaze at crowds of people, never quite interfering, never involving himself; as a result, he usually knows other people (and flits/salamandyrs) much better than the average flit or even person would before even meeting them. He’s also very protective of his bonded, though he doesn’t show it in the orthodox way: he couldn’t care less if other flitters land on his chosen, for example, but if anyone threatens His, he will tear them apart until they either cease to be a threat, or cease moving… and he’s good at identifying the ideal point to attack. He’s very quick to spring to violence and for such a chubby creature, he’s disgustingly fast at between (perhaps as a side effect for not being able to actually move like most flits). Keeping track of this little guy will be quite the chore. It’s just fortunate he has his bonded’s best interests in mind most of the time!
[~] By checking this box, blah blah blah yeah I got it. XP
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Rank: Bluerider
Physical Appearance: S'van most closely resembles an awkward teenager who never really outgrew his awkward phase. He stands at just under five feet six inches, which is probably for the best because if he were any taller then he might be almost dangerously thin. There is absolutely no extra weight on his thin frame, and his bones are visible wherever his lean muscles and numerous scars are not. S'van will never be a large man, but feminine would not be an accurate description. If anything, he simply looks very young for his age.
His fine black hair is short and haphazardly sheared off at a number of different lengths, suggesting that he probably cuts it himself. It has a tendency to get greasy very quickly when he is hot or physically active -forget about when he decides he's too tired to wash it. His eyes are a pale shade of yellow-brown that are more attractive from a distance than they are up close. His face is winter-pale and narrow, with sharp features that would be quite expressive if he ever put them to good use. He is almost always wearing the sort of uninterested scowl that could be taken as threatening in a pinch, but more often is viewed as simple unpleasantness.
Even in the middle of the summer you're likely to find S'van wearing dark, long sleeved clothing. Short sleeved garments are not common in the north, and he's still getting used to the idea of wearing them now that he's a southerner. He prefers loose wool clothing that that makes is easy to to conceal a blade or two. You'll be hard pressed to find him unarmed, and that includes when he's bathing and sleeping. He takes very special care to ensure that there is always something sharp within his reach.
Personality: Were S'van lacking anything in size -an accusation which he fervently denies- he would more than make up for it in fearless tenacity. While serving at Benden, he was the one you called when you had a dangerous task that nobody else was foolish enough to take on. Assassinations, breaking and entering, spying and sabotage are all listed neatly on his resume, and he doesn't regret a single one of them. Having been forced into doing a lot of things that he isn't proud of, S'van has learned to rationalize and justify many acts that would be considered unforgivable by others for the sake of maintaining his sanity.
He looks out for himself and his dragon first and foremost. Should he have the time or inclination he may then decide to look out for someone else, but these bouts of chivalry are few and far between. He does not trust other riders, but is especially wary of brown and bronzeriders. The heterosexual men he's used to dealing with are cruel people who revel in abusing women and any man who so much as hints at being attracted to his own gender. He manged to keep his sexuality well concealed during the time he spent at Benden, but the fear of being discovered has always been with him, and with it a fear of the people who would seek to punish him for it.
If one does manage to work their way past the barbed wire and razorblades, S'van really is a decent sort of person. His life has been a challenge thus far and it's affected him deeply, but that's not to say that a change of scenery won't coax his softer side out of hiding. Though one would be loath to guess by looking at him, he is capable of feeling a wide range of emotions deeply and passionately. When they do manage to bubble to the surface they can be almost frightening in their intensity, but the emotions he typically shows are nothing more than aftershocks caused the feelings he knows better than to express.
History: Born Serivan to Serina and M'van of Benden Weyr, his childhood mirrored that of many children born in the north under less than ideal circumstances. S'van was an illegitimate child, conceived between a young brownrider and his favourite drudge by what would have been considered rape had Serina not so fervently argued to the contrary. She was meek and naive, a dreamer with a broken heart who looked for love in all the wrong places. When M'van discovered she was pregnant, he wasted no time in sending her away and severing all contact. Having the man she considered to be her true love abandon her was too much for Serina to handle. Serivan spent much of his childhood hungry and alone, save for his mother's wine-soaked sobbing over the life she could have had if only she'd never bore him.
Being both small and unimportant, it was easy for Serivan to assure he went unnoticed when the harpers went around to gather students. He spent his days working any job he could find. With his mother drinking whatever marks she brought home -earned first from odd jobs, then through what she called 'adult favours'- the only way he could ensure that he stayed fed was to take the initiative in earning his own wage. When there was no work to be done, he was not above stealing. He lived out much of his bleak childhood this way, and things probably would have stayed the same had he not been searched as a candidate. Benden Weyr was a change from the life he knew, but weather the change was good is up for debate. His roommates were of the opinion that he made for a good plaything, punching bag and all around scapegoat. It was four years before his dragon was clutched.
S'van acquired his new name when he impressed blue Rifashth -smallest of his clutch and sweetest of them all- in his fifteenth turn. Forsaking all claims to the life he had known before, the tiny blue instantly became the world to him. For the next seven years they faced Threadfall, greenflights, vicious battles and at times their own Weyr as an inseparable pair. Their superiors eventually took note of their size and fighting skill, and they were drafted into service under F'rel as part of his 'darter squad'. There were seven of them -a group of fast and agile warriors who specialized in bypassing heavy defenses. They drilled using captured Fort dragons, and to this day S'van can remember the sounds the made when their throats we cut. Halfway between a sob and a scream, you could hear a rider's heart breaking in their dragon's deathsong.
Shortly after he turned twenty two, word came that they were being dispatched to make an attack on Selenitas Weyr in the south. S'van and Rifashth knew little of this Weyr, but had learned early on to place their own welfare above that of strangers, and so they did not question the order. During the attack, the darter squad was dispatched to take out a group of Selenitas weyrlings who had barricaded themselves inside their living quarters. He managed to break past the weyrling dragons unscathed and injure one of the girls, but he was caught and maimed by her dragon shortly thereafter. The weyrling used him as leverage to tempt Rifashth into attacking their wingleader, promising his safety if his dragon chose to sacrifice himself to their cause. Thankfully, F'rel was killed only moments after the request was made, and they were called back to Benden. The Selenitas weyrling returned him to Rifashth honourably, and they left to rejoin their wing.
Somewhere, there had been a leak. In an attempt to save his rider, Rifashth had told the weyrling blue that their riders were circling around to attack through the upper windows of their hideout. As they flew to rejoin their wing, a pair of greens descended on them. They were called traitors, and were assigned the resulting death penalty without trial or fanfare. Had it not been for the rain, the bluepair would certainly have been killed. One of the greens managed to tear Rifashth's left wing, but the storm took a sudden turn for the worst and sent all three dragons spiraling across the sky. This bought Rifashth the precious seconds he needed to slip Between and escape. The bluepair spent a miserable night in the jungle, freezing, wounded, and hungry before they made the decision to return to Selenitas Weyr. Death waited for them at Benden, and it stalked them now through the jungle foliage as their strength faded. With the weyrfolk of Selenitas, there was at least a chance for mercy. When the sky lightened to a cheerless grey above them, they began the long walk to what they knew was their only hope.
Name: Rifashth
Color: Blue (#9999FF/4E3E57)
Age: Seven Turns
Physical Appearance: This is a very small blue. Minuscule when compared to others of his colour, this dragon will only be considered of average size when standing among greens. Thankfully, he has no particularly effeminate features that might complete the illusion of his being a very strangely coloured green. Rifashth is a well muscled blue with a strong, almost blunt face and broad chest. His wings are strong and fit his body perfectly, making him quite graceful when airborne. However, this blue lacks the stamina that most of his colour posses, and so will not be able to fly through an entire Threadfall without completely exhausting himself. Because his was a heavily drugged clutch, Rifashth sports his Benden heritage in a noticeable lack of neck spines and a right forepaw with only three large digits.
Rifashth is a shade of cloudy blue that provides camouflage against a sky of almost any colour. A full mask of grey-violet covers his face and runs to the back of his neck, omitting only his bottom jaw which remains cloudy blue. Something of a stocking decorates his left forepaw, starting out solid and separating into bands of varying widths as it approaches his knee. The pattern looks unfinished or perhaps worn away, as there are a number of gaps and smears to lend it a weathered appearance. The same can be said for the feathered bands running intermittently down the length of his tail. Like paint that has seen too many hard winters, the pattern is flecked off in places to reveal the pale blue underneath. More than a few scars can be seen traced along his flanks.
Personality: As his rider lives for him, so too does Rifashth live for S'van. Unlike most dragons, he takes on a supporting rather than a defensive role where the young man is concerned. He offers him love and reassurance when he cannot offer his voice, for he is well aware that is is impossible to protect his from all the dangers and pains of the world. This blue's strong and quiet demeanor was bred into him for the sole purpose of serving under the dragons at Benden. He's really quite an open and inquisitive fellow once you get to know him, and loves both science and philosophy. Given adequate chance he will talk for hours on a topic of his fancy, only stopping when hunger bids him visit the feeding grounds.
Rifashth has spent his entire life in wordless submission, and so it is only natural that this blue avoids conflict wherever he can. He would sooner admit to a crime he didn't commit than throw up a fuss about it, and tends to apologize needlessly. Should someone take an interest in manipulating or otherwise taking advantage of him, they will meet little resistance. This is due to his submissive nature and not his nativity, for he is quite good at reading others and picking up on their true motivations. He is not a very competitive dragon, and while he enjoys the occasional greenflight he never really takes them seriously. The greens he catches my become his friends if they share his laid-back attitude, but he is not the sort of male who will dote upon his mate. In fact, he will be quick to distance himself if she becomes too possessive or clingy.
Name: Fat Bastard
Looks to: S'van
Species: Firelizard
Color: Bronze (#c0b707)
Age: Hatchling
Physical Appearance: In a word, this firelizard is fat. There’s no other way to say it, no nicer way to phrase it – he is definitely, undeniably fat. Since his very Hatching, he’ll be chubby – and he won’t be getting any skinnier with time. Indeed, soon enough, he’ll look positively ridiculous; it will be very, very hard to take this bronze seriously, because he’s extremely roly-poly, without even the excuse of being extremely well-muscled. With short, stubby legs, and a neck to match, this bronze firelizard looks almost as if he’s incapable of moving – fortunately, nature seems to have taken pity upon him, for his wings are positively huge. Were he not so fat, this bronze would actually be small – and his wings look capable of holding up a firelizard gold if necessary. However, they can just barely support his weight as it is, and he’ll look hilarious trying to get into the air to begin with – and if his Bonded doesn’t watch out, it’s fully possible he’ll end up being able to bounce upon landing. No matter how much exercise goes into him, none of his fat will ever leave him, more’s the pity…but at least it’s possible to keep his weight static…?
His coloring would actually be very attractive had it been on a…fitter…firelizard. A golden bronze shade covers his body, and very distinctly metallic is he; in the right light, he’ll positively glow, especially if His has taken the time to oil him and bathe him, but even without, he has a perpetual gleam to his hide. Darker, mossy bronze accents his wings, streaks melting flawlessly into the brighter golden shade, muted, almost invisible unless the sun strikes them just right. Along his back, “c”-shaped markings in the same darker bronze, though there is no fading, making the difference between gold and mossy much more noticeable, run down this bronze’s spine, ending halfway down his tail, while the first one curves towards his wings, exactly on top of his last neck ridge. In a last, rather feminine touch, this firelizard’s eyelids are a very light, reddish-bronze color – eye shadow, anyone?
Personality: In a word: This fire lizard is extremely cold. Intolerant of other flits to the point of actively avoiding them most of the time, it could be said that this little male is very antisocial. He doesn’t chirp or chatter much, but what little he bothers with, he means. While his appearance is anything but serious, his personality more than makes up for it -- just because he’s on the chubby side doesn’t mean that he’s not fully capable of driving his point home. He’s a vicious fire lizard when trying to make a point and rather than gentle nips and nudging that most of his kind are capable of, this little guy can and will take out entire finger mobility all in one clean swoop to prove his point. Do not test his patience, for he has very little of it and will not at all accept disobedience. When he actually makes a request (of any kind it will be rare), he expects to be listened to. Fortunately, he’s a creature of logic and reason - he’s rational, almost alarmingly so for a fire lizard, and he won’t ever ask anything that’s not to the utmost benefit of his bonded, whether they realize or not. He’s not the type to pester his chosen for anything other than the utmost necessity. He prefers to sit and be observe.
Yes, observant: That’s another of this fire lizard’s key traits. While he is very efficient in driving home a point and remarkably intelligent, the most dominant of this bronze’s behavioral patterns is that he’s… well, he likes to people-watch. He’ll sit and gaze at crowds of people, never quite interfering, never involving himself; as a result, he usually knows other people (and flits/salamandyrs) much better than the average flit or even person would before even meeting them. He’s also very protective of his bonded, though he doesn’t show it in the orthodox way: he couldn’t care less if other flitters land on his chosen, for example, but if anyone threatens His, he will tear them apart until they either cease to be a threat, or cease moving… and he’s good at identifying the ideal point to attack. He’s very quick to spring to violence and for such a chubby creature, he’s disgustingly fast at between (perhaps as a side effect for not being able to actually move like most flits). Keeping track of this little guy will be quite the chore. It’s just fortunate he has his bonded’s best interests in mind most of the time!
[~] By checking this box, blah blah blah yeah I got it. XP