Finch

In a clan of destroyers, Finch is the sole creator...

Grimm and his mystical gumbo doesn’t count; he isn’t making soup, isn’t making dinner, but using the dead flesh of others to contact the Plague Mother. Finch is convinced he is unique in the clan, a dragon who is less interested in battle and bloodshed, than in the purity of creation.

The song of metal in fire, the shine of freshly forged claws, the brightness of a blade polished to a shine, that is what Finch finds beautiful. The others can have their corpses and their meat, their stitches and their sundered souls. Finch will take the metal off the corpses, the jewelry and the weapons, and melt it down to make something better, something more...Beautiful.

Something like Coldfire.

Titan made himself through years of slaughter and combat. No dragon alive could rival his achievements, and if there were such a dragon, he would destroy them. The only way that he could have a mate truly worthy, would be if she were created just for him.

An impossible dream in another clan, perhaps, but Finch took the challenge up hungrily. From the battle-slain, he took the best of their weapons. Hammering and heating the metal, creating plate after plate that he tested by giving them to Titan to scratch and claw at. If Titan could mark the plates, if he could break them, Finch threw them back into the fire. He needed to make something perfect. Someone perfect.

Finally, in the end, he made Coldfire. But he could not let her go so easily. Just as Titan is constantly improving himself, so is Coldfire being constantly upgraded by Finch. She must be worthy of being Titan’s mate and that means he has to enhance her every time that Titan improves himself.

Finch has always been obsessed with his work, but Coldfire is a project that will never be complete. His interest in her is purely professional. Really.