Cirrus

"The chill of solitude cuts deep; leaving an injured soul's scars laid bare."

Cirrus was once one of Stormcatcher's most stalwart and valuable technicians. She served her master diligently at the lightning farms. Laying and servicing the network of cables was her life's purpose. She took few risks, preferring to stay with the herd in relative safety. (Barring a few errant lightning strike accidents.)

When she was approached about a research venture in the Boreal Wood, her gut told her "no" - but her overwhelming desire to serve her master and forebears screamed "Yes!" Against her better judgment, she packed up her tools and followed her clanmates.

The creatures of the Wood were not interested in being studied. To a group of technicians, combat was practically unheard of and their calculating minds were not up to the task of plotting an on-the-fly strategy to fight. The group scattered in a panic, leaving Cirrus for dead in a high snowdrift.

To a dragon unfamiliar with the Icewarden's domain, not knowing the lay of the land is a death sentence. Cirrus survived her encounter with the feral animals, but she spent weeks that turned to months attempting to navigate the squalls and icy hurricanes that ravaged the desolate landscape. She found herself struggling to survive in the Fortress of Ends. Storms continually blotted out the sun and her once vibrant fur and plumage began to pale and take on new patterns.

In a last ditch effort for some kind of rescue, Cirrus fashioned a crude flare out of some base chemicals and soil she spent nearly a fortnight scavenging from the permafrost. Assistance came in the form of Thyraxxis and her clan who were in the area hunting yeti. They swept the ailing wildclaw up and carted her back to their lair in the molten scar. Grateful for their compassion and sense of loyalty, Cirrus has been with them ever since.