Tryste

Already the runt of the litter, little Tryste's short life was marked by further trial when a traumatic birth left her arms and wings crippled. Barely able to stand, let alone work, it seemed she was doomed from the outset, for the Stormcatcher and his realm have no place for those who cannot master themselves, or the world around them.

However, it was the Stormcatcher's ethos that resulted in the opposite - Tryste had no time to pity herself, or her circumstances, and within a year had made her first attempts at assistive mechanical prosthetics that allowed her to begin an apprenticeship under an innovative metalworker.

From there, she went from strength to strength. She specialised in the maintenance and improvement of machinery, often testing out her new ideas as part of her ever more complex personal prosthetics. But it was not enough to match - only to surpass.

Eventually, as many fierce young minds do when put under one pressure too many, Tryste lost all joy in her work, and realised that she needed to take a break, or break herself.

She spent a final few months in the company of her master, working on her most recent set of wing supports, before taking to the sky and - on the word of a sympathetic fellow worker, who had connections to a Guardian who had gone overseas in pursuit of his Search - found her way to the breezy, restful plains of the Zephyr Steppes.

Since then, Tryste has been rediscovering the joy in her craft, tinkering and tailoring and providing the members of the clan with all manner of useful knicknacks. Her gifts are never anything less than useful, and some find her passionate intensity a little frightening, but her talent and skill have made her a highly valued and reverenced member of the lair.