Foxtrot

Deep in the Scarred Wasteland not so long ago, there was a clan of Plague dragons that did not meet the usual savagery that seemed to be their stereotype. These dragons were silent night hunters. They avoided daylight and observed the affairs of other dragons with mild disdain, mostly indifference. This clan was unnamed and uncared for. No dragon paid them any mind, since they didn't make themselves known. A young female in this clan met a powerful Skydancer mage, and the two laid a nest.

When the hatchlings were finally born, they were feathery balls of fiery emotion, much like their father. Only one really stood out. A silent, motionless little hatchling who had a sort of strut to the way he walked. His father dismissed him as a useless runt, but their mother was greatly intrigued by him. She called him Foxtrot, though she couldn't say for sure what it was about him that made her call him this, other than his unique gait.

The mother, Echo, left to raise Foxtrot on her own after it became clear that none of her clan nor his own father wanted him around. Eventually, she taught him everything she knew, and he began to develop a real personality. He was gentle, easily excited, and curious. Echo loved him very much. However, Blue, the father, managed to track his mate down. He blamed young Foxtrot for her leaving, and forced her to abandon their son. Foxtrot was left alone in the Scarred Wasteland, and he was only a baby at the time.

Blue and Echo returned to their home, but Foxtrot didn't get that luxury. Instead he was forced to scavenge the land in an attempt to find food and clean water. Two things not simple to come by in the Scarred Wasteland. Thankfully, an old Tundra was passing through and found the dehydrated and starved hatchling. He was overheated and sick, and he couldn't make it much longer. The Tundra, a snow white male named Cherokee, gently scooped him up and flew into the air. Cherokee was a talented healer, so he did what he could for the blue Skydancer.

After a few weeks of recovery, Foxtrot was awake and able to move. He was... down, to say the least. His mother and father abandoned him. And he didn't even know why. Naturally, he was bitter and resentful, especially of his siblings, who were not abandoned. Cherokee often tried to convince him that it wasn't his fault and his parents were simply fools. Foxtrot found himself trusting and eventually loving Cherokee. The old Tundra was the closest thing he had to a father.

By the time Foxtrot had fully recovered, he'd reached adolescence. And the Scarred Wasteland was no longer the proper place for him to live. He talked to cherokee about moving to the Water flight one day. In answer, the Tundra snorted in laughter and nodded to the south.

"Water," he chuckled. "Why would you go to Water when I come from a place much more suited to you and I? We'll get along just fine in my home region."

Foxtrot slowly asked where that was. Cherokee refused to tell him. So they flew and flew for many days until they finally reached a bitter tundra landscape. It was filled with snow, ice, and sparce plants. The dragons that lived there seemed to pay no mind to Cherokee and Foxtrot for invading their land. If anything, they seemed they didn't even notice. Foxtrot inwardly wished he could be like that. Feel no pain, but also feel no love or joy. It was a tough way to live, he imagined, but still an admirable one.

Nonetheless, Foxtrot lost his passionate, opinionated self over time. He still formed opinions and cared about things, but he never voiced his thoughts. The only dragon he really knew was Cherokee and the Tundra was the only dragon he could possibly be loyal to. So when tragedy struck, it was only understandable that he lost that piece of himself forever. Foxtrot remembers it so clearly.

They were out for a flight. They were jumped by a band of thieves. Foxtrot, a talented mage and passable combatant, tried to fight them, but it was no use. They killed Cherokee, who was too old by then to truly fight back. With his father figure having reached such a terrible end, something inside Foxtrot snapped then broke away. He went temporarily crazy on Cherokee's murderers and slaughtered them, just the way a fine Plague dragon should.

When it was all said and done, Foxtrot lost most of himself. He was silent and virtually emotionless. He never took sides, never bothered with making real friends. He was always neutral on every matter. Some assume it's because he didn't want to suffer another loss. Those who know Foxtrot know that he isn't concerned about suffering anymore. It's one of the many things he is indifferent about.

The Skydancer found himself lacking food. He began to do things for money. The thing he was best at was gathering intel. In exchange for money, he gathered information. He didn't care who he was working for, didn't care how low they asked him to stoop, and he didn't care if he had to make a dirty move or two. Foxtrot simply didn't care. As easy as it is to get along with him, most of his employers felt quite awkward around this cold-hearted spy.

The thing was, he worked for many organizations and businesses and gathered much information, some of which he risked his life to get. Whatever turned in a good profit was fine by him. On the other hand, his loyalty was always second to none. He would switch companies whenever he pleased, the fickle creature. His personality began to change at random intervals to suit his needs. And it worked. Foxtrot was the best at what he did.

He came to this clan on a job and decided to stay a while. He didn't get very attached to any of the dragons, especially not right away, but he did offer his services to the clan in exchange for membership. After succeeding in securing himself a place, Foxtrot went to great lengths to keep it that way. He remained his indifferent neutral self, but now he actually had a clan. Granted, a clan he would sell out to if offered the right price, but a clan nonetheless. It was a place he belonged, and one he would not give up easily.

Foxtrot will never forget his plight nor all he's seen. It shaped him into the neutral Skydancer he is today. It took him a long time to master his art. A fine spy and informant, he believes he knows all and sees all. Yet he still doesn't choose who to follow. He's more of a sideline dragon.