Slicksilver

Pronouns: He/him
Mate: Dolo (monogamous)
Kin: Algora, Alzeria (daughters), Bonedancer and Babe (grandchildren), Lilith (great-granddaughter), Ash, Vapula, Berith (g-g-grandchildren)

Role: Patriarch

Slicksilver has a dream.
That in itself is already odd. Raised in a highly traditional Mirror pack (which is to say, an asocial constantly shifting loose collection of taciturn hunters who are as likely to bite your tail off as to say hello) the chatty and idealistic Slicksilver stuck out like a sore claw. Oh he could hunt with the best of his clan, but he had an annoying habit of trying to talk through territorial disputes instead of meeting them with immediate overwhelming violence, as was good and proper. Even by his cold and utilitarian pack's standards Silverslick was not well liked, and it eventually became clear that he could either leave, or become their next lunch.

Silverslick, more alone than ever, wandered the Abiding Boneyard skirting the edges of other mirror packs, never staying anywhere for very long. Denizens of the Scarred Wasteland are slow to trust at the best of times and Silverslick's overenthusiastic affability was usually met with suspicion and rejection. He could have moved on, relocated to a gentler climate, perhaps Dragonhome or the Windswept Plateau or even the Starfall Isles, though he would be the first to admit he has no head for books. But no, the Wasteland is his home, and he held out hope that there was a place for him to fit in here, in the land that made him.

The Wasteland is ever hostile though, even to those that love it, and one terrible (wonderful) day Silverslick was caught in a duststorm so violent his wings would have been ripped to shreds if he hadn't held them tight to his body. Desperate for shelter he crept low to the ground, nose and eyes straining for a cave or even just a windbreak he could hide behind. He almost crashed into them face first the visibility was so poor. A wall of green scales belonging to a Guardian nearly twice his size, she turned to bare her fangs at him, though caught in the storm herself she could do little more than that.
Long used to this treatment by now Silverslick darted away, not eager to provoke such a formidable stranger, and continued his search for a scarce few minutes more when his claws scratched bone. He could not see clearly what it was, but it was large and appeared to have an opening reaching deeper underground, promising shelter from the stinging wind. It would be so easy to slip inside and ensure his own safety. Slicksilver did not consider it for even a moment, turning back the way he came, calling out to the struggling green guardian. By the grace of the Plaguebringer he found her again, and though they could not speak over the howling wind, he gripped her claws in his own and tugged her in the direction of his cave. Further incredible luck allowed him to find it again and they both crawled inside, running deeper and deeper into the cold dark interior, to sanctuary.

The cavern went far deeper than they could see or anticipate, so they paused on the threshold of dim light before pitch blackness, safe enough from the storm for now. Concious of her eyes trained upon him Silverslick spoke first, in his customary nervous chatter he introduced himself and asked after her own wellbeing. In a cool rough voice they introduced their own self as Dolo and she was well enough, thanks to him. In fits and starts they spoke to pass the time, and eventually the conversation come to a point, as Dolo bluntly asked: Why are you out in the wastelands alone? Upon consideration Silverslick answered.
Because no one he had met would take a chance on him. But that didn't matter actually because he had a dream, a mission, that he would be that dragon instead: the dragon to extend a hand. He would begin his own lair and accept any dragon from anywhere who just needed someone to care, to ask if they needed help and then follow through.
Dolo regarded him for a long moment before looking around, and deeper into the cavernous space the (evidently extremely large) fossilized beast left behind. "Well", they remarked, "it looks like you may have found the very lair you need". They turned back to Silverslick, their eyes fastened to his own; "And your first tenant."

Silverslick and Dolo began the Sanctuary together, over many many years and many leaps of faith. They are now grand sires many times over, a family legacy second only to their legacy of the many lives they have given safe harbor. Slicksilver himself welcomes every new arrival and personally gives the grand tour.