Quil

As the fourth council member, Quil acts as the Spymaster. His job? To keep an eye on rival clans and scout for obtainable material and food sources. Despite his size, Quil can still squeeze into relatively small places, and with his familiar friend, Finn, there's no situation they can't handle.

His parents, Hawkeye and Mockingbird, were the clan leaders when Quil was but a hatchling. However, after a few days his parents became caught in a war between their clan and another, one that had fastly become well renown for causing mass destruction all over the region. During this time, Quil became separated from his parents, another clan member telling him to run and hide somewhere so he couldn't be found. Once hidden, he waited out the battle, praying every second for it to end...but it lasted for weeks.

Quil didn't budge from the hiding spot he'd chosen: A small burrow dug deep within the ground. Being only a baby, he had know idea of the potential danger he had put himself in, for it was the home of a cranky, battle-worn badger. It unmercifully attacked him, leaving a scar along one of his eyes that had him blinded for a week or so after. Coming to his rescue, however, was a small horde of glowing pocket mice. They'd overheard the small yelp and squeal of agony and rushed to his aid. After holding off the badger and leading Quil out from its burrow, they guided him to their own home. Several of them had sped ahead to prepare for his bulkier sizings, working with the rest of the horde to widen their tunnels for his safe-resting.

As the weeks passed and the battle raged, these pocket mice made sure to bring food for Quil, taking solace in his diet of only insects and plants. They kept him warm, and told him stories both funny and adventurous. He remained huddled in their burrows until the thunders of war settled.

Leading him back home a few miles from where they had been living, Quil was welcomed with a gut-wrenching sight. His lands strewn with bodies of dragons he could not recognise...and ones that he could.

Bounding through the graveyard of broken down dragons, he soon came across an unsightly scene..the clan member who had shooed him from the battle, battered and torn with both wings ripped clean off, found only a short distance from his body. There was no sign of his parents, only the corpses of dragons whose breath could exist in their lungs no more.

***

Remaining in the company of glowing pocket mice, Quil warmed quickly to one particular soul whom had named himself 'Finn'. They were thick as thieves, except they didn't ever steal a single thing, they just hid together in the most bizarre of places, finding objects with no use to others that they then recycled for the purposes of their horde.

He never found his parents, nor did he find any other survivors from the battle. But he never stopped searching, every new area becoming a possibility to find what he had grown to miss ever so dearly.