Badluck

They say that she was cursed from birth.
They say her wings were white, once.
They say if she meets your eye you'll never move again.
They say many things.
She ignores them.

Born a dark, overcast day, she was quickly discarded by her clan- a small, vicious group where only the most ruthless were accepted, and all others were left at crossroads to be taken by another clan. The day she was born was said to be cursed for her clan- they left her at a crossroads the first chance they got. She didn't wait to be found, and instead she left and began to wander the various lands on her own.

She met many, and fought many more- for the world was a harsh place, yet full of wonder, and often the two things overlap. She had a vicious streak herself, and used it to protect herself and others she stumbled across, and to give her the strength to explore where she chose.

In time, a life of wandering and fighting grew boring to her, and she went to find a clan to settle down in. Tales of her strength had spread, though- legends of how fearsome she could be in battle, how her claws could rend through scales like a hot knife through butter- and a fear of her had grown from it.

She settled into, and soon left, many clans. Finally, she stumbled across one where she felt at home- a clan living around a large waterfall, where she could sit at the top and watch the sunrise and sunset.

Though she still has a fearsome reputation, her clan has rumors of their own about her.

They say she let the hatchlings cover her in flowers.
They say she saved a panicky pearlcatcher from drowning.
They say that she carried an injured snapper, heavy with eggs, back home to be treated.
They say many things, and when she hears them, her eyes crinkle and she bows her head in gratitude to those who appreciate her.
For she is Badluck, and she is good.