Itta

Itta was born in a nest of three, with one brother and one sister. When they were young, so young that the memories are ghosts of the past, they would pull pranks, get dirty, and play all day. That all changed but a month after their birth.
Their parents decided to start cracking down on them. They all began etiquette classes, and Itta excelled at this new life. She was prim and poised within a week, leering over her nose at the hatchlings that played in the dust. Deep down inside, however, she longed to be a part of their antics.
A small male Coatl whose face is now clouded and hazy pulled her into his plans and pranks one day. She always felt slightly guilty when she skipped a debate class to go play with this dragon, but she loved spending time with him. They became inseparable. One was never seen without the other. One day, he took his fez off his head, and gave it to her with the words, "Never lose your fire, Itta." Then he disappeared.
The immediate day after, her parents decided that she would do great good in the world. They packed her up and made her ready to go. She was still a hatchling when she stiffly bowed to her parents, a small fez from a special someone atop her head. Her parents had told her to take it off, but, for the first time, she didn't listen.
Itta left, feeling lighter than ever despite being weighed down with a heavy sack of coins. It was enough to provide for a day or so, but to small Itta, it seemed weighted enough to feed her for life.
It was slow going, but she was moving forward. She hopped to the Southern Icefield, and enjoyed her time there. She bought a heavy, but graceful, winter pelt. She rarely appeared to others. Dragons who caught a fleeting glance of her in a blizzard were said to have immense luck. She created a shrine for herself, and dragons left coin so that they might see her. She soon became known as the Lady of the Cloudscrape Crags.
When the Icewarden found this out, he was extremely wrathful. He marched to the temple and smashed it to bits, freezing the coins in blocks of ice. Trees were felled, blizzards whipped up, and the very earth trembled. But he could not find Itta.
This is because her mating instinct kicked in, just in time. Not a trace of her was left among the ice, and the blizzard covered any lingering scent. Dragons in the surrounding area assumed that the wild storm was the Lady of the Cloudscrape Crags's final burst of glory. They mourned and celebrated her passing, much to the annoyance of the Icewarden. But he couldn't kill his own kind, could he?
And so Itta migrated to the Ashfall Waste. She barely slept, ate, or drank along the way, and was strangely nostalgic when she thought of the fiery place. Within a day, she collapsed inside of a smoke so thick that it choked her.
When she awoke, a dragon was laying her down gently on a rug. He had a kind face, but it looked like... was that lava? She gasped and back-pedaled away from him. He sighed, his kind facade twisting into sorrow. In that moment, Itta numbed her terror to reach out her claws to him.
She traded her heavy, winter gear for lighter summer attire. A breezy orange gown now hugged her waist, held to it by an intricate belt. As she was redressing, she took a good, long look at her fez, and set it down. Her lip trembled, and she barely held herself together. She turned to leave, but then she broke and rushed back to it, slamming it firmly on her head. She could never... would never...
She left the dressing cave, and fell into clan life. Of course, there was his other mate, the fiery and pesky ForestFire, and, while the two never became friends, Itta tolerated her presence. She could practically feel the contempt rolling off the Mirror when they were around each other, but, with time, it lessened. Though Itta mates with Honoo often, she never forgets about the hazy Coatl that first taught her that one can be fiery underneath an icy exterior.

Itta is a capable, independent Coatl. She knows how to act courtly around those she hates and catch them in a spiderweb of political doubt. Her heart isn't exactly golden, but it has enough passion to light a thousand candles.
She's a tad bit proud. No matter how hard her parents tried, they just seemed unable to iron that quality out of her. She stands up for what she believes in and takes insults to heart. It is her greatest asset, but also her greatest flaw.
She is the opposite of easy-going. Every stranger is an enemy, and every friend could turn into a back-stabber in a blink of the eye. Her eyes are shifty, darting from one to another dragon, drinking in all of the details, but are also strangely alluring. Their purple shine has dazzled many dragons.
While she loves Honoo, she can never forget the mysterious dragon and the simple fez he gave her. Who was he? Where was he now? How did he seem to know that something was going to tear them apart? She wonders this to herself at night, and knows that she will never get the answers.
Itta is extremely passive-aggressive. She is known for making odd, seemingly light-hearted comments such as, "It's your choice," or "I'm fine with either or," or, "Mmm. I don't know, it doesn't seem like the smartest decision." While this infuriates other dragons, she laughs at them from her high horse. Yet, each time that sharp, unnatural sound rushes out of her lips, her soul dies a little inside.
Itta, the Coatl with the fake smile and the crumbling heart. Itta, the Coatl mated to the most powerful dragon for miles around but whose heart belongs to another. Itta, the Coatl that only ever seems to be able to drive people away. Itta the coward. Itta the mistress of lies. Itta the unfaithful. Itta the fat. Itta the ugly. Itta the stupid.
Itta, the Coatl with the fiery soul that is slowly being put out.
Itta laughed--he always seemed to be able to make her do so. No matter how hard her classes were, no matter how Ms. Gait cracked down on her, he would bring a smile to her face.
He was grinning too, a wide smile that filled her heart with fuzzies and planted butterflies in her stomach. Then, slowly, it fell away. His look grew pensive, then downright distressed. "Itta..." he said softly.
"Yes?" Itta asked, worried. Instinctively, she took one of his claws in her own.
"Itta... I..." He sighed sorrowfully, a heart-breaking sound from him. A weak smile plastered itself on his face. He took off his characteristic fez, staring at it for a moment. "Never lose your fire, Itta." He said and pressed the hat into her claws. He turned and ran, wings snapping open to propel himself in the air. He never once looked back.
"Wait..."

-Bio thanks to AwkwardAngel-