A small dragoness by the name of Harlow started into the world as a normal looking fae, very common patterns, though a pleasant pallete of colors, if she said so herself. Til a night she had been resting in the light of the new moon, reading the darker arcane magic, reading the old scriptures as strange words were uttered she felt a strange feeling glide over her skin. It wasnt til the next morning that she realized at what had happened. Markings had appeares upon her. Not just any either, skeleton markings. This was a first among the arcane clans of her area. It was a fancy of many when they first saw her.
It wasnt til whispers of her doings to get the marks that Harlow began to shy away from the public. She had been very content with her wallflower life, she could get away with much of her activites because of her averages looks. She was one you swore you knew but could never remember the name of. Not many took pride in that fact, but she loved it. Seeing many dragons call out a name and awkwardly turning away as they realized she werent them made her laugh every time. But once she had been the cause of such a stir, she could never go anywhere without the whispers of 'Harlow'. It was only when a few fledlings began talking about her practicing evil magic and how the Arcantist would never accept her that she took flight. Leaving the clan she once knew and hiding amongst the untamed lands of the arcanist.
It was the comforting lullaby of her homeland that eased the female into her surroundings though, that was until her shoulders tensed. She didnt sing, faes typically didnt, but this was definitely a fae. When her eyes met the eyes of another arcane, she backed away til the fae flew at her, pulling her into a hug. "Harlow!" "Roslyn?!"
Harlow is a master of the darker arcane, often working with the bones of many creatures. Despite her craft, Harlow is a very kind fae, albeit a very shy dragoness. She would prefer to stick in the background, letting out quiet snickers as she makes wise cracks to herself or quietly under her breath, though if she is ever caught, her eyes go wide, her frills shivering in embarrassment as her claws timidly wring the tip of her tail.