Heathcliff

Heathcliff Potan, a wandering raven.
Sorrow's Creek/Dullmist Ruin

Description

It is said that Sorrowtown will never truly fall so long as it has its doctors to fall back on.

Like many of the dragons of Sorrow's Creek, Heathcliff is an old-fashioned fellow, not one to marvel at newfangled inventions and practices, though he puts them to good use when he must.
The well avoid him as though he were spawn of plague itself, though sick dragons often seek him out. He is generally quite polite and friendly if a bit melancholic, and were it not for the rumors that surround him many of his clanmates would put their faith in him merely out of instinct.

Heathcliff firmly believes that one must have a sense of humor to get by in the world, and makes
a point of thinking up at least one joke before he's finished his first cup of tea in the mornings,
even if he doesn't say it aloud. He appreciates hot drinks and pastel colors, and obsessively maintains a very clean workspace. His coat and feathers are very often slicked back, caked in oils and waxes, and he tends to smell of all manner of herbs and chemicals. These are not merely for his own protection or comfort- pestilence follows in his footsteps like a heavy cloud, and he must take measures not to do more harm than good. Most of the more severe diseases he has encountered don't seem to have taken root in him, but he's nearly perpetually ill in some way or another.

Heathcliff considers Tinctorius his best friend. They seek eachother out for advice and companionship.