Weston

I am error.
From the time he hatched he was told he was a mistake. An error. Something that should not exist. He was confused at first. How could he, less then a day old, be considered an error. But as time went on and the voices didn't stop, he started to believe them.
I am error.
That thought controlled the next stage of his life. Ashamed, ridden with guilt he tried to make up for this mistake by being good to everybody, by pleasing all. All too soon he realized this was impossible. No dragon could please everybody. His confidence tanked. Sadness and despair marked his passing days. When he could no longer take the leering facings and the frowns, he left his home.
I am error.
Those words still rang in his ears. Not wanting to burden anybody or be a bother he sought out a land where he could be alone. Perhaps maybe then he would find a bit of peace. Dragonhome seemed the ideal place, barren rock and a small, wide-spread flight.
He avoided all other lairs, and even the longneck who climbed the rocky hills. Rather then peace, he only found isolation in the desolate desert of Dragonhome. He was ready to give up all hope when a curious dragon came across him.
He dressed in shades of red and spoke in melodious chirps. Despite having just met him, this young dragon could understand, for he was still impressionable, as all nocturnes are. The other dragon introduced himself as Sumodo and explained that he was on a journey.
I am error.
Those words were shushed by a gaping hole called loneliness. Maybe I could travel with Sumodo for a while. So he did. The two slowly got to know each other. Sumodo told his own tale of how he too was once unwanted and left. The little dragon didn't dare share his story, he was too afraid. But at last he had found peace in the chime-like chirps that Sumodo made.
He agreed to try spending a few days at the lair that Sumodo frequently visited. There he met other hatchlings his age, and best of all, nobody thought him an error.
I am error.
Those words from his younger days still sting, but surrender by new friends they are slowly losing power.
Self-losing still something he struggles with on a daily basis, but it is no longer so strong as to dictate his every movement.

Now he fights alongside others, defending Dragonhome and destroying the shade, wherever it may be found.

Hector, Weston, and Fiorello are part of the second bowman team. They all trained together under the tut. of Summer.

Taking cues from the fluttery fabric of Sumodo, Weston holds his ribbons close, coming at foes with swift attacks at close range. Rapid patterns and the somewhat randomness of it all makes it hard to defend. Weston's attacks are lighting fast, he can pick a number of different ribbons and use them in spectacular combinations.

Selfless, putting others fist he often dives into harm's way so that others don't have to. His size and speed make it hard for foes to ignore him. His goal is to hamper or harm the enemy in such a way that they won't cause concern for the rest of his teammates.

Gentle and nurturing, he hides his feeling by investing time and energy to help others. Old doubt that has yet to be drawn out fuels his dedication to helping and serving others.

He has a hard time turning others down, and does not voice his own needs.

His helping nature sometimes causes him to focus too much on what he can do to help others and make their day brighter that he misses what they truely need. He also experience burn out from not putting up enough boundaries.
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Give Everburn Tangle

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