Lyuba

She stole her dad's old boots and enjoyed stomping around in them even when they were several times the size of her feet, when she was little. She collected twig,-string,-and-cheap-paint swords she would distribute among her fellow hatchling minions to menace the inhabitants of Athaza with, leading the way and roaring as mightily as she could with her tiny lungs as she waved her weapon about wildly (trying valiantly to ignore the floppy wiggling of the waving twig portion). The unusually tiny wildclaw would proudly announce to anyone who would listen that when she grew up she was going to be a pirate AND a princess both, and the very bestest of both that any dragon anywhere had ever seen. She even had a royal flag commissioned (lopsided, of raggedy scrap fabric) to help back up her claims.

The kinder dragons, and those who were better actors, tried their best to pretend abject terror at this sight, or at least hold in their laughter. It did show some signs that she had inherited her father's charismatic leadership talents, however, because she could always find willing recruits to be press-ganged into her miniature pirate crew.

In adulthood her fury now is a breathtaking thing, and though her fits of temper tend to be short-lived, what they lack in length they often make up for in height. She is also apt to take out her aggression in a very direct and physical way, and though it would take a lot for her to actually put another dragon in mortal danger she has left more than a few impressive lesser scars in her time. She herself is so focused, so quick and agile, that she is rarely found with any more than the merest scratch after a confrontation.