Wolrik

The Doctor...?

"I am W o l r i k . . .

come c l o s e r . . .
I can h e l p you. . .

Let me C U R E Y O U . . ."

Wolrik was found as a hatching dumped at the edges of the clans territory. Originally, there was nothing they could find that was wrong with the abandoned child, but after several days passed it became apparent that something was amiss. She seem unable to open her mouth to eat or drink, and she quickly grew weak.

It became clear that the normally thin and slick liquid in her capsuled tummy was thickening, congealing into a slow moving ooze. And with this slow change, her heath began to degenerate until t was thought that she would be lost to the clan and they began burial preparations as no healer they found was able to help the hatchling.

Sick, loose scales fell from her body in chunks, leaving behind pocked and festering skin. The clan leaders watched after the sick child, trying to make her comfortable in what they expected to be the last days of her short life.
They watched as the diseased mucky fluid in her capsuled belly began to expand, filling up under her skin until her throat was engorged and the young Wolrik made weak ad pitiful whines, her misshapen jaw keeping her mouth locked shut.

Eshwyn and Tylla had little experience with capsuled babies, but they had seen adults completely healthy and well, and looking at this child they had little hope. The clan, a mishmash or strange dragons, could find no solutions and they resigned to mourn for the ill hatchling that was left at their doorstep.

Then in the night the scavenger, Ratha, approached the child under watch of her clan Leaders. Ratha, not known for her kindness or empathy, was watched by the sharp eyes of Tylla.
Her watch did little to stop the much larger guardian when she lunged towards the infant's throat, puncturing the thin flesh of it.
There was a wild hiss as the sludge burbled up through the wounded skin, filling the guardians mouth and dripping from between her teeth as she reared back and tore Wolrik's throat asunder.

Tylla darted forward and yanked the hatchling away from the scavenger as Ratha turned and spit the offending much from her mouth.

Eshwyn forced the guardian away as his mate cradled Wolrik. Ratha held herself bodily against Eshwyn, locking eyes with Tylla.
"At least now the child will not choke." Ratha droned as she shoved her head against Eshwyn's in a stubborn show of power before she turned and left them with the child who was taking great heaving breaths and the slime dripped from her neck to the floor.

During the night, after the wound was wrapped, the chid slept more deeply than she ever had previously.
She was still weak and frail from hunger and thirst, but it rapidly became obvious that there was something deeply different about the child as rough thick scales began to protrude around the opened wound. The wound that would not heal under any medicine they could procure.

It was only days after Ratha's attack that Tylla watched the nearly wasted away hatchling flex her neck and the jagged edges of the wound closed and opened as a mouth would.
Later again by only a few hours Eshwyn watched in horror as his mate fed Wolrik a mashed plant paste through the gaping maw that now resided on the baby's neck.

And by the time she as a young dragon, not fully grown but more than a hatchling, her 'wound' had much transformed into a mouth and while she was heathy and growing she was still different than her clan mates.

Her skull misshapen, she is only capable of communication through nasal sounds or through guttural, stiff halting speech from her throat.
She quickly found interest growing up in some forms of medicine that would generally be considered "ill-advised" or "untrustworthy". With no real training, her healing is not magical and consists of salves, poultices, and 'potions' made from grown and scavenged plant life, as well as some questionable surgical practices.