Post by DaeSiggil on Aug 8, 2011 10:30:44 GMT -5
Weyr: Sereg Dagnir
Name: F'ris (Fenris)
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Mainly Homosexual, bi-curious/sexual.
Rank: "Wingleader" of Archon (ground unit)
Age: 26 Turns
Appearence:
He's rather short by some standards, barely reaching a five foot six, although that doesn't mean that he's weak by any means. His form is lined with muscles and giving him a swimmer's build, legs stronger because he prefers walking whenever he can. His skin is blemished by some scars earned in fights here and there when tempers had raised too quickly. The oddest thing about him are the markings over his skin, a pale color travelling over his body in small lines and twirls. A rather beautiful sight against the dark color of his skin and often tempting people to touch it, but something that F'ris is ashamed off as those markings where forced upon him and not received of his own free will. They're rather sensitive and that makes him shy away from any unexpected touches.
His limbs are slender to accompany the rest of his body, decorated similarly as the rest with the tattoo-like markings. They end in equally slender hands, still having every finger and can work on small things. But they are not shy of handling something bigger and he has a strong grip if the need calls for it. Also the same pale lines runs lightly over the bone and pronounces them. Calluses on the pads of his fingers and in his palm are proof of this and a sign that once more, he isn't as weak as he looks and can handle himself just fine. He doesn't need help when he doesn't ask for it, thank you very much.
He is clearly an outdoors type as seen by his bleached to white hair, giving off the impression that he's albino when they first see him from behind. His hair falls in scraggy locks around his face and some of it nearly long enough to cover his eyes, but is constantly brushed aside or cut crudely with a knife to just keep out to stop it from covering them, leaving him with a free sight of his surroundings. To the back of his head, it brushes past the nape of his neck and just long enough to tie back in a crude ponytail. He never does this however as it would look very silly on him, so he thinks. He never tried it either way so there is not a chance that one would be able to see him with it.
His eyes are of a dark moss-green and slightly tilted upward in an Asian way, adding to his foreign looks as they peer into the world with a hard look, not inviting them to come closer to him and get to know him. His nose is small and would have been straight if it hadn't been broken once. The wound has healed since long, but forever there remains a small bump to tell of the old injury and any mention of it will make him rub slightly over it as if to hide it from the world. His mouth is thin and constantly pressed together in a bitter look, his chin is free from any hair as he shaves it off at the first hints of its growth. It doesn't stop him however from looking older than he truly is.
Clothes of a dark color cover nearly every inch of his body, some kind of gloves covering his hands. It only has a single purpose, hide the marks of his shame and doesn't react kindly when someone tries to remove them. He only pulls them out when he's sure he's alone, or when he knows that the other person won't comment on it, like the Healers, they have seen him enough and know him well enough not to question anything about those. The only time to see him without his shirt is when he's not aware of them and outside or when one shares his bed with him.
Personality:
The first thought one would have upon meeting him is, beautiful but a total bastard to everyone around him who broods constantly about everything and never slack off, and that indeed does fit him perfectly. He often doesn't have a nice word for anyone else; it is surprising that he managed through candidacy without too harsh punishments or being sent away. He doesn't hold a leaf in front of his mouth, but does stay respectful about it, hurting others in the nicest way possible. He holds everyone at a distance as much as he can, without pushing them entirely away, as if wishing they take the chance to try and get to know him better nonetheless.
If one does, one sees that the hard outer shell is just that. He has a wry sort of humor that few can appreciate, although one will have to prod hard to get that side come out. He also has a fondness of children, but doesn't act much on it. the chance of him ever having children is very small, if non-existing and he doesn't really mind that. He loves them, but really doesn't want get one of himself, it also would be interfering with his work as a rider. He does often watch over any children when they ask him when he doesn't have anything else to do when he's sulking, he mutters and grouches at it, but inside he's a big softie who's happy that he may do so.
Also, his dragon is currently the only one who gets his full respect and friendship. If someone gets close enough and becomes his weyrmate, one can expect a loyalty that often one doesn't see very often and will stay with them through thick and long, although not really being able to handle when they 'cheat' on him, however he is able to stand it more and somewhat able to accept if it's because of mating lust and not their own choice to do so. A man is more likely to come close as he finds most women rather strange over all, although he can appreciate the view like any other man can and likes their presence if they don't start... Faranth forbid, crying all of a sudden.
Somewhat contradicting as he tries to catch their attention, but once done so, tries to lose it again after the first night of passion. He will do something with them, compliment them and then try to awkwardly try and speak his way out of it to think things over and wanting to make sure that it is really what he wants and not some urge that he would regret later. He never had the chance to make up his mind as they mostly soon after had taken another, leaving him alone to think about it further what he could have done better. He never feels the urge to make love to someone if they have someone else to warm their bed, he simply doesn't as he finds the motion not entirely disgusting, but neither is he comfortable with it.
F'ris doesn't really have anything against other people, although only if they threaten something that he considers 'his' then he would react and explosively so. He would find something, preferably sharp and jump forward to try and hurt them as much as he can. His rage is described often as a beast cornered, that explosive. He first would threaten them, trying to chase them away and then go in for the attack. Luckily, almost no one managed to push him that far. His temper is somewhat violent either way and it more often than not is directed toward people he considers too stupid to comprehend what he's saying.
This rider also can't truly stand being touched by people he isn't really familiar with when it's not needed and especially not by total strangers who assume that they can place their fingers on everything that they see. He grudgingly will accept help when he's wounded and then when it's close to dying wounded, thus only because it's absolutely needed and not because he wants to. He will only stay and endure it as long as needed, before leaving as to avoid them to further prod into his body. He rarely reaches out himself to someone he likes, but if he does, it is a gentle touch and close to being a gentle caress. He also can reach out in anger, often punching them in the stomach or their jaws, whatever is needed to let them lose focus so he can escape nearly unscratched.
Quirks:
Tends to go around barefooted, prefers it.
Denies that he's brooding.
History:
He does not remember much of his childhood, in fact, he is not sure if he recalls anything about that time and especially not sure if he wants to recall it, the only source of knowledge will be the persons who conceived him and raised him, if they're still alive. He sometimes has flashes and they leave him bitter and in a worse mood than normal. He's most likely born somewhere outside a hold, for nowhere else he could've gained the markings he now sports, although the purpose of them is unclear. The only memory he has of that process is blinding pain and nothing else. After that, his life was pretty dull with him working and trying to do his best for those who raised him then.
It's not entirely sure how he became to be this bitter, most likely to do something with the smaller scars staining the otherwise unblemished skin, if one ignores the tattoos. It also didn't help that the one he blamed for his tattoos remained unfound.
It was clear that he liked the tasks better that he had to do around the Hold than the people who ordered him to do it, it gave him the chance to work with the animals who weren't out to hurt him, at least not on purpose and if they did. It was at least because he knew he did something wrong and not because of cruelness as he had to feed them each day and took their general care on him. He knew that difference at least and it was simply enough that he could let his mind wander. He grew up more with them than with the humans he was forced to surround himself with when he returned to the place where he slept, got food and every other necessarily, it was bleak, but Fenris didn't know any better on that aspect.
Fenris heard rumors then, rumors of only one person knowing how to do tattoos. It was settled then for the young man, he would search this V'yal out and confront him. He didn't realize how much of a chore it would be though and he had no means to travel around. He was forced to remain at the hold, but day after day swore himself that he would find the man who did this. It was what allowed him to remain upright, what allowed him to keep going.
So it didn't come as a surprise that he looked in distrust when the search rider landed close to him. He never had much social interaction when he had been younger apart from another child who looked almost similar to him, never had other children to play with. His dear friend, the only person that he somewhat liked in the entire hold. They could run and play for hours if they had no tasks that needed attending to and they where inseparable from each other, it never went further than that, they never told each other secrets to keep forever. The hold quickly learned that if they needed one of the two for something, that they also should search for the other. But she quickly was whisked of as she was older and married to someone out of the Hold and it seemed to put a stop to their short lived friendship.
The rider was an unknown element for young Fenris and he remained wary of the other, barely restraining from running. He had learned that he should never turn his back to someone. He seemed to have unknown potential however, as whatever passed beyond the pair he never knew was his salvation, he was allowed the chance to become a Candidate and stand at the Clutch of the current clutching Ithil. The taste of freedom was an eye-opener and he blossomed, learning that being treated like he had been was not acceptable. Nonetheless he had learned his lesson and didn't let anyone close.
A certain dragon he impressed, opened his eyes further and he truly learned how it is to trust something deeply with everything he has, the comfort of telling them everything without having to fear that it would circulate around the weyr in not more than a day. It also taught him that it maybe wouldn't be all that bad if he would open himself up a little more for other people and with encouraging words from his companion, he tries to learn to trust humans again. The threat of some problems looming ahead has not yet been deemed problematic. The impression itself was and still is a memory to remember.
It had been a night where Fenris couldn't sleep and he wandered the Halls, keeping out of everyone's sight. The same night that the Ithil announced that her Clutch was about to hatch and Fenris quickly moved, although nervousness thrummed in his veins. He knew the location already, having been there before when the Candidates where allowed to touch the eggs. His breaths came out in soft pants and he stared over the sands and then met the Queen's whirling eyes. She still hummed and he quickly bowed again, not knowing what else to do and moved out of the path and into the shadows. His arms wrapped around his chest as he kept looking around, slowly the rest of the people appeared. Candidates and riders alike.
Certainly an exciting moment, Fenris followed every moment when a egg twitched and broke, revealing one of the stunning creatures inside, seeing it walk around and impress to either male or female. He begged most of them to come his way, but he wasn't spared one glance and nervousness and even anger rose inside the youth. He hadn't come here to not impress, that was the main thought in his head, quickly followed by a feeling of despair. What if he wasn't good enough?
The youth was so focused that he didn't see when one of the remaining eggs broke, revealing the stunning new mutation inside. It clawed his way through the Candidates and would have attacked Fenris who snapped his eyes to the clumsy creature. It stopped and stared at him and Fenris got the impression that the creature was a male, just like him and a hesitant smile wanted to touch his lips. He didn't dare hope though, unsure of the fact that this possible really could happen. The dragonet was maybe merely confused after hatching and searched for his bonded? The voice that entered his mind came as a shock and his eyes widened
F'risMine.. You are worthy of me. The dragonet whispered Is Falarenth worthy of you as well? Falarenth's eyes swirled with green and blue when F'ris nodded his head. The Tinechor swiveled his head around to stare at the other Candidates, newly impressed and Riders as they stared at him and a hiss escaped his maw Why are you all dressed in white? He questioned and stared at his bonded, before his eyes dulled lightly Why are they all staring at us? Falarenth continued speaking and then looked at F'ris again, before turning a small circle and hissed once more Does F'risMine have some food?
He breathed in deeply and pressed a hand on the top of the Tinechor's head and smiled "Of course I have food." He finally spoke, eyes shining warmly for the dragon he already held closer than anything else "Come, I'll show you." He continued, before pondering on the rest what the dragonet had just said "It is a tradition for Candidates to dress in white and they never have seen someone like you before.." He ended in a whisper, Falarenth nodded his head solemnly I understand. F'ris didn't comment on the confusion that he heard in the mental voice and just smiled.
"Hey.. Falarenth, you are worthy of me, always will be."
Happiness beamed from the dragonet and he smiled even wider as he nearly staggered, half surprised at the drastic increase of Falarenth's feelings and infected by it, eyes closing as he set on the task of feeding Falarenth for the first time. The time also used to get more used to the warm presence at the back of his head and trying to use his mental voice so that he didn't have to speak out loud all the time.
The biggest problem he faced with the Tinechor he impressed, Falarenth, was some prejudice for having impressed the new mutation, although the others had gotten used to the first three mutations of the Weyr. The Tinechor was something new and the Weyr had to adapt anew to include the new dragon that they believed wouldn't have come. It was also clear that they didn't know what the dragon could do, and if he would have specific needs. It was all a big question mark. It was done with a lot of experimenting, the chance of ever flying was quickly shot out of the window as Falarenth crashed down. His wings not able to keep him aloft as they were not build to keep his weight and he wounded himself, along with some of the onlookers. It was also clear that Falarenth preferred to stay underground and this caused F'ris to take the Tinechor down and deeper into the ground.
Falarenth surprised everyone by making a bowl against one of the walls. His nest as he called it, the place where he could sleep comfortably in; it was made with the use of his spit and the sand he found around him. The task almost done and the bowl yet incomplete he moved to the rocks and started scraping around it to get smaller pieces of stone that he could use with his claws and even his entire body to reach higher places. The almost armor like hide had not yet hardened completely, only would do so when he was fully grown. The stone caused small chips in the Tinechor's armor, something that never would disappear although the mark it left would lessen some. It was not deemed dangerous, but both wanted to push deeper and further, especially Falarenth was stubborn. He pushed into a hole that was far too small for him, although he deemed that he would fit in comfortable. The struggling that ensued caused stones to fall and land on him, without room to maneuver it struck him and caused more damage and left him with most of the scars he has now.
Once free, with a lot of luck and urging of F'ris. He managed to pull himself free, promising never to do something like that anymore. At least not until he found out that he could use his wings as enormous shields if he kept them above his back and folded them a certain way. It kept his armor from further damage. The man remained to direct Falarenth into a certain direction as the Weyr had to expand to hold the new arrival of Candidates and the Tinechor would not listen to anyone else but his Rider.
The Tinechor has done a lot for the Weyr when it had to expand. The training rooms for example would never had been this size if it was not for Falarenth. For a moment, F'ris was content with the new live that he had build in the Weyr, until a certain flight from the Lovely Lady came around. A magnificent sight, but his eyes weren't looking at that. He spotted a curious sight and he recalled his promise from so many years ago, the man that he believed was to blame for his tattoos. He tried to come closer and confront the other man now. He couldn't come closer however, forced to remain at a distance and when everything had cleared. The man had been gone, but the fury didn't disappear anymore and he renewed the promise to find the man.
Father: Blue-rider V'ral (Deceased)
Mother: Riesen (Alive, hold)
Siblings: None
Pets: None
Other:
Can't have kiddies..
He isn't based on Fenris of the Dragon Age II game >>
Dragon Name: Falarenth
Dragon Color: Tinechor
Age: 8 Turns
Personality:
The slightly more rational side of the pair, it doesn't mean that he doesn't share some of the odd personality traits that his Rider has. He isn't that shy of being touched however, but he does prefer to be alone with his bonded. He enjoys relaxing by the water and feeling the soft sweeping movements of his Rider's hands as he cares for his skin. His hate for stupid people is worse than that of F'ris, although miraculously slightly tempered down by said man. He would move heaven to earth to satisfy the man, although also urging him to take chances and almost watching as a proud mother as F'ris slowly starts to get more comfortable with humans again.
He's also slightly more against caring for the Queen's eggs than any other Tinechor would be, simply because it would keep him away from his Rider and it would stop him from trying to break the man out of his shell. He also shows his nasty temper when anyone tries to do something that he or F'ris doesn't like. He can get grumpy quickly, but nothing lights his rage as quickly as someone trying to do that. It is somewhat annoying as it is quite hard to restrain a dragon of his size, although just as he can calm down F'ris, so can his rider calm him down.
Appearence:
He looks like the typical Tinechor, large and brutish although never would he outsize those of further generations, he's by some standards even quite normal. His colors are the typical dark grey and the spit running down his maw have stained his armor a faint orange-red color. The only thing that differs from the others and younger Tinechors are the scars that decorate his body and small chipped pieces of where his armor had been a bit weaker at the edges. His claws also look slightly worn down from clawing at the rocks.
Name: F'ris (Fenris)
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Mainly Homosexual, bi-curious/sexual.
Rank: "Wingleader" of Archon (ground unit)
Age: 26 Turns
Appearence:
He's rather short by some standards, barely reaching a five foot six, although that doesn't mean that he's weak by any means. His form is lined with muscles and giving him a swimmer's build, legs stronger because he prefers walking whenever he can. His skin is blemished by some scars earned in fights here and there when tempers had raised too quickly. The oddest thing about him are the markings over his skin, a pale color travelling over his body in small lines and twirls. A rather beautiful sight against the dark color of his skin and often tempting people to touch it, but something that F'ris is ashamed off as those markings where forced upon him and not received of his own free will. They're rather sensitive and that makes him shy away from any unexpected touches.
His limbs are slender to accompany the rest of his body, decorated similarly as the rest with the tattoo-like markings. They end in equally slender hands, still having every finger and can work on small things. But they are not shy of handling something bigger and he has a strong grip if the need calls for it. Also the same pale lines runs lightly over the bone and pronounces them. Calluses on the pads of his fingers and in his palm are proof of this and a sign that once more, he isn't as weak as he looks and can handle himself just fine. He doesn't need help when he doesn't ask for it, thank you very much.
He is clearly an outdoors type as seen by his bleached to white hair, giving off the impression that he's albino when they first see him from behind. His hair falls in scraggy locks around his face and some of it nearly long enough to cover his eyes, but is constantly brushed aside or cut crudely with a knife to just keep out to stop it from covering them, leaving him with a free sight of his surroundings. To the back of his head, it brushes past the nape of his neck and just long enough to tie back in a crude ponytail. He never does this however as it would look very silly on him, so he thinks. He never tried it either way so there is not a chance that one would be able to see him with it.
His eyes are of a dark moss-green and slightly tilted upward in an Asian way, adding to his foreign looks as they peer into the world with a hard look, not inviting them to come closer to him and get to know him. His nose is small and would have been straight if it hadn't been broken once. The wound has healed since long, but forever there remains a small bump to tell of the old injury and any mention of it will make him rub slightly over it as if to hide it from the world. His mouth is thin and constantly pressed together in a bitter look, his chin is free from any hair as he shaves it off at the first hints of its growth. It doesn't stop him however from looking older than he truly is.
Clothes of a dark color cover nearly every inch of his body, some kind of gloves covering his hands. It only has a single purpose, hide the marks of his shame and doesn't react kindly when someone tries to remove them. He only pulls them out when he's sure he's alone, or when he knows that the other person won't comment on it, like the Healers, they have seen him enough and know him well enough not to question anything about those. The only time to see him without his shirt is when he's not aware of them and outside or when one shares his bed with him.
Personality:
The first thought one would have upon meeting him is, beautiful but a total bastard to everyone around him who broods constantly about everything and never slack off, and that indeed does fit him perfectly. He often doesn't have a nice word for anyone else; it is surprising that he managed through candidacy without too harsh punishments or being sent away. He doesn't hold a leaf in front of his mouth, but does stay respectful about it, hurting others in the nicest way possible. He holds everyone at a distance as much as he can, without pushing them entirely away, as if wishing they take the chance to try and get to know him better nonetheless.
If one does, one sees that the hard outer shell is just that. He has a wry sort of humor that few can appreciate, although one will have to prod hard to get that side come out. He also has a fondness of children, but doesn't act much on it. the chance of him ever having children is very small, if non-existing and he doesn't really mind that. He loves them, but really doesn't want get one of himself, it also would be interfering with his work as a rider. He does often watch over any children when they ask him when he doesn't have anything else to do when he's sulking, he mutters and grouches at it, but inside he's a big softie who's happy that he may do so.
Also, his dragon is currently the only one who gets his full respect and friendship. If someone gets close enough and becomes his weyrmate, one can expect a loyalty that often one doesn't see very often and will stay with them through thick and long, although not really being able to handle when they 'cheat' on him, however he is able to stand it more and somewhat able to accept if it's because of mating lust and not their own choice to do so. A man is more likely to come close as he finds most women rather strange over all, although he can appreciate the view like any other man can and likes their presence if they don't start... Faranth forbid, crying all of a sudden.
Somewhat contradicting as he tries to catch their attention, but once done so, tries to lose it again after the first night of passion. He will do something with them, compliment them and then try to awkwardly try and speak his way out of it to think things over and wanting to make sure that it is really what he wants and not some urge that he would regret later. He never had the chance to make up his mind as they mostly soon after had taken another, leaving him alone to think about it further what he could have done better. He never feels the urge to make love to someone if they have someone else to warm their bed, he simply doesn't as he finds the motion not entirely disgusting, but neither is he comfortable with it.
F'ris doesn't really have anything against other people, although only if they threaten something that he considers 'his' then he would react and explosively so. He would find something, preferably sharp and jump forward to try and hurt them as much as he can. His rage is described often as a beast cornered, that explosive. He first would threaten them, trying to chase them away and then go in for the attack. Luckily, almost no one managed to push him that far. His temper is somewhat violent either way and it more often than not is directed toward people he considers too stupid to comprehend what he's saying.
This rider also can't truly stand being touched by people he isn't really familiar with when it's not needed and especially not by total strangers who assume that they can place their fingers on everything that they see. He grudgingly will accept help when he's wounded and then when it's close to dying wounded, thus only because it's absolutely needed and not because he wants to. He will only stay and endure it as long as needed, before leaving as to avoid them to further prod into his body. He rarely reaches out himself to someone he likes, but if he does, it is a gentle touch and close to being a gentle caress. He also can reach out in anger, often punching them in the stomach or their jaws, whatever is needed to let them lose focus so he can escape nearly unscratched.
Quirks:
Tends to go around barefooted, prefers it.
Denies that he's brooding.
History:
He does not remember much of his childhood, in fact, he is not sure if he recalls anything about that time and especially not sure if he wants to recall it, the only source of knowledge will be the persons who conceived him and raised him, if they're still alive. He sometimes has flashes and they leave him bitter and in a worse mood than normal. He's most likely born somewhere outside a hold, for nowhere else he could've gained the markings he now sports, although the purpose of them is unclear. The only memory he has of that process is blinding pain and nothing else. After that, his life was pretty dull with him working and trying to do his best for those who raised him then.
It's not entirely sure how he became to be this bitter, most likely to do something with the smaller scars staining the otherwise unblemished skin, if one ignores the tattoos. It also didn't help that the one he blamed for his tattoos remained unfound.
It was clear that he liked the tasks better that he had to do around the Hold than the people who ordered him to do it, it gave him the chance to work with the animals who weren't out to hurt him, at least not on purpose and if they did. It was at least because he knew he did something wrong and not because of cruelness as he had to feed them each day and took their general care on him. He knew that difference at least and it was simply enough that he could let his mind wander. He grew up more with them than with the humans he was forced to surround himself with when he returned to the place where he slept, got food and every other necessarily, it was bleak, but Fenris didn't know any better on that aspect.
Fenris heard rumors then, rumors of only one person knowing how to do tattoos. It was settled then for the young man, he would search this V'yal out and confront him. He didn't realize how much of a chore it would be though and he had no means to travel around. He was forced to remain at the hold, but day after day swore himself that he would find the man who did this. It was what allowed him to remain upright, what allowed him to keep going.
So it didn't come as a surprise that he looked in distrust when the search rider landed close to him. He never had much social interaction when he had been younger apart from another child who looked almost similar to him, never had other children to play with. His dear friend, the only person that he somewhat liked in the entire hold. They could run and play for hours if they had no tasks that needed attending to and they where inseparable from each other, it never went further than that, they never told each other secrets to keep forever. The hold quickly learned that if they needed one of the two for something, that they also should search for the other. But she quickly was whisked of as she was older and married to someone out of the Hold and it seemed to put a stop to their short lived friendship.
The rider was an unknown element for young Fenris and he remained wary of the other, barely restraining from running. He had learned that he should never turn his back to someone. He seemed to have unknown potential however, as whatever passed beyond the pair he never knew was his salvation, he was allowed the chance to become a Candidate and stand at the Clutch of the current clutching Ithil. The taste of freedom was an eye-opener and he blossomed, learning that being treated like he had been was not acceptable. Nonetheless he had learned his lesson and didn't let anyone close.
A certain dragon he impressed, opened his eyes further and he truly learned how it is to trust something deeply with everything he has, the comfort of telling them everything without having to fear that it would circulate around the weyr in not more than a day. It also taught him that it maybe wouldn't be all that bad if he would open himself up a little more for other people and with encouraging words from his companion, he tries to learn to trust humans again. The threat of some problems looming ahead has not yet been deemed problematic. The impression itself was and still is a memory to remember.
It had been a night where Fenris couldn't sleep and he wandered the Halls, keeping out of everyone's sight. The same night that the Ithil announced that her Clutch was about to hatch and Fenris quickly moved, although nervousness thrummed in his veins. He knew the location already, having been there before when the Candidates where allowed to touch the eggs. His breaths came out in soft pants and he stared over the sands and then met the Queen's whirling eyes. She still hummed and he quickly bowed again, not knowing what else to do and moved out of the path and into the shadows. His arms wrapped around his chest as he kept looking around, slowly the rest of the people appeared. Candidates and riders alike.
Certainly an exciting moment, Fenris followed every moment when a egg twitched and broke, revealing one of the stunning creatures inside, seeing it walk around and impress to either male or female. He begged most of them to come his way, but he wasn't spared one glance and nervousness and even anger rose inside the youth. He hadn't come here to not impress, that was the main thought in his head, quickly followed by a feeling of despair. What if he wasn't good enough?
The youth was so focused that he didn't see when one of the remaining eggs broke, revealing the stunning new mutation inside. It clawed his way through the Candidates and would have attacked Fenris who snapped his eyes to the clumsy creature. It stopped and stared at him and Fenris got the impression that the creature was a male, just like him and a hesitant smile wanted to touch his lips. He didn't dare hope though, unsure of the fact that this possible really could happen. The dragonet was maybe merely confused after hatching and searched for his bonded? The voice that entered his mind came as a shock and his eyes widened
F'risMine.. You are worthy of me. The dragonet whispered Is Falarenth worthy of you as well? Falarenth's eyes swirled with green and blue when F'ris nodded his head. The Tinechor swiveled his head around to stare at the other Candidates, newly impressed and Riders as they stared at him and a hiss escaped his maw Why are you all dressed in white? He questioned and stared at his bonded, before his eyes dulled lightly Why are they all staring at us? Falarenth continued speaking and then looked at F'ris again, before turning a small circle and hissed once more Does F'risMine have some food?
He breathed in deeply and pressed a hand on the top of the Tinechor's head and smiled "Of course I have food." He finally spoke, eyes shining warmly for the dragon he already held closer than anything else "Come, I'll show you." He continued, before pondering on the rest what the dragonet had just said "It is a tradition for Candidates to dress in white and they never have seen someone like you before.." He ended in a whisper, Falarenth nodded his head solemnly I understand. F'ris didn't comment on the confusion that he heard in the mental voice and just smiled.
"Hey.. Falarenth, you are worthy of me, always will be."
Happiness beamed from the dragonet and he smiled even wider as he nearly staggered, half surprised at the drastic increase of Falarenth's feelings and infected by it, eyes closing as he set on the task of feeding Falarenth for the first time. The time also used to get more used to the warm presence at the back of his head and trying to use his mental voice so that he didn't have to speak out loud all the time.
The biggest problem he faced with the Tinechor he impressed, Falarenth, was some prejudice for having impressed the new mutation, although the others had gotten used to the first three mutations of the Weyr. The Tinechor was something new and the Weyr had to adapt anew to include the new dragon that they believed wouldn't have come. It was also clear that they didn't know what the dragon could do, and if he would have specific needs. It was all a big question mark. It was done with a lot of experimenting, the chance of ever flying was quickly shot out of the window as Falarenth crashed down. His wings not able to keep him aloft as they were not build to keep his weight and he wounded himself, along with some of the onlookers. It was also clear that Falarenth preferred to stay underground and this caused F'ris to take the Tinechor down and deeper into the ground.
Falarenth surprised everyone by making a bowl against one of the walls. His nest as he called it, the place where he could sleep comfortably in; it was made with the use of his spit and the sand he found around him. The task almost done and the bowl yet incomplete he moved to the rocks and started scraping around it to get smaller pieces of stone that he could use with his claws and even his entire body to reach higher places. The almost armor like hide had not yet hardened completely, only would do so when he was fully grown. The stone caused small chips in the Tinechor's armor, something that never would disappear although the mark it left would lessen some. It was not deemed dangerous, but both wanted to push deeper and further, especially Falarenth was stubborn. He pushed into a hole that was far too small for him, although he deemed that he would fit in comfortable. The struggling that ensued caused stones to fall and land on him, without room to maneuver it struck him and caused more damage and left him with most of the scars he has now.
Once free, with a lot of luck and urging of F'ris. He managed to pull himself free, promising never to do something like that anymore. At least not until he found out that he could use his wings as enormous shields if he kept them above his back and folded them a certain way. It kept his armor from further damage. The man remained to direct Falarenth into a certain direction as the Weyr had to expand to hold the new arrival of Candidates and the Tinechor would not listen to anyone else but his Rider.
The Tinechor has done a lot for the Weyr when it had to expand. The training rooms for example would never had been this size if it was not for Falarenth. For a moment, F'ris was content with the new live that he had build in the Weyr, until a certain flight from the Lovely Lady came around. A magnificent sight, but his eyes weren't looking at that. He spotted a curious sight and he recalled his promise from so many years ago, the man that he believed was to blame for his tattoos. He tried to come closer and confront the other man now. He couldn't come closer however, forced to remain at a distance and when everything had cleared. The man had been gone, but the fury didn't disappear anymore and he renewed the promise to find the man.
Father: Blue-rider V'ral (Deceased)
Mother: Riesen (Alive, hold)
Siblings: None
Pets: None
Other:
Can't have kiddies..
Dragon Name: Falarenth
Dragon Color: Tinechor
Age: 8 Turns
Personality:
The slightly more rational side of the pair, it doesn't mean that he doesn't share some of the odd personality traits that his Rider has. He isn't that shy of being touched however, but he does prefer to be alone with his bonded. He enjoys relaxing by the water and feeling the soft sweeping movements of his Rider's hands as he cares for his skin. His hate for stupid people is worse than that of F'ris, although miraculously slightly tempered down by said man. He would move heaven to earth to satisfy the man, although also urging him to take chances and almost watching as a proud mother as F'ris slowly starts to get more comfortable with humans again.
He's also slightly more against caring for the Queen's eggs than any other Tinechor would be, simply because it would keep him away from his Rider and it would stop him from trying to break the man out of his shell. He also shows his nasty temper when anyone tries to do something that he or F'ris doesn't like. He can get grumpy quickly, but nothing lights his rage as quickly as someone trying to do that. It is somewhat annoying as it is quite hard to restrain a dragon of his size, although just as he can calm down F'ris, so can his rider calm him down.
Appearence:
He looks like the typical Tinechor, large and brutish although never would he outsize those of further generations, he's by some standards even quite normal. His colors are the typical dark grey and the spit running down his maw have stained his armor a faint orange-red color. The only thing that differs from the others and younger Tinechors are the scars that decorate his body and small chipped pieces of where his armor had been a bit weaker at the edges. His claws also look slightly worn down from clawing at the rocks.
; *