LoupGarou

His name was Imo, when he was born. It meant “knowledge” in his home tongue. He grew up in a Plague clan that straddled the border of the Tangled Wood and The Scarred Wasteland. He was calm and intelligent from the very beginning, barely making a peep out of turn. It was a rarity that he played with the other hatchlings. His mother always said that he was to good for them or they wouldn't like him because he was too smart.When he grew older, he gained his own voice. When his mother insisted on an apprenticeship with the bookkeeper or the treasurer, but he defied her just to make her angry. He trained under the clan florist, a wonderful female tundra that taught him to love every living thing and show care to all. She taught him to live the life that he deserved to live; happy and full of love.

Imo enjoyed his job as a florist’s assistant. He found a beautiful mate, maybe had a few hatchlings, and became a content dragon, surrounded in life. But, his luck seemed to vanish. He was at his shop when the monstrous excuses of dragons came. They didn’t talk, they didn’t want money, they didn’t want anything. They just laid waste to the entire clan. It was horrible. The sights that Imo saw were… Unspeakable. His wife, hatchling, and best friend were ripped to shreds in front of him. He begged for his own life to be taken, not willing to live on without his family. They laughed at him and began to tear at his flesh and sink their teeth into his body. They left him within an inch from his family, death close beside. But, something hot began to pump through his veins. Something unnatural and wrong, like those other dragons. His bones and flesh began to move under his skin. He felt his body change, becoming smaller and stronger than before. His bloody eyes cleared and grew sharper. His senses grew sharper and more controllable. It was magnificent for all of two seconds before he was hit by a realization. He was now one of the things that stole his family.

Imo changed his name. He found that the name of the monsters of old, “Loup Garou”, was more fitting than his own name now. He shrouded himself in a disguise and found a new clan, trying to surround himself with new dragons and the love they felt for each other. He now resides in this clan, watching the happy couples, the little hatchlings, and the rest of the clan carefully. He even occasionally visits the clan florist, advising in color arrangements or types of flowers. LoupGarou isn’t happy, but he busies himself with the manors of the dragons he watches.

Lore by CraftyCannibal