Pyrrhus

Dodge! Hurdle! Roll! The call for battle flowed, ever-present, through Pyrrhus’s veins. Ever since he had been born, he had felt the urge to move, to fight and run and duck. His ancestors declared it, his parents reinforcing the rule with their restrictions upon his everyday life. But it was all right, really. He loved fighting, especially because of the rush of adrenaline it gave him. It offered a hobby to excel at, something to satiate his pride.
Although his mother had been an infamous scientist, his father was a strict, no-nonsense general who directed thousands of exiled troops daily. He was used to their constant screaming, sometimes at each other, sometimes at him. He was just like them, in every way possible. He could be moody at times, if he hadn’t won a battle or mastered a move. But then there were the moments when he just wanted to fly a mile and never return, moments that brought such fierce longing into his heart. He had a stiff pride that allowed him to work twice as hard in things others would overlook. And he was also obedient, following the rules exactly as they were, never stepping out of the line. The Model Dragonet to his parents, who just needed a break after his older brother had been exiled for his ill behavior. Wishing to make them happy above everything else, Pyrrhus didn’t think twice when it came to doing their bidding, especially since it was just what they needed to reconnect. And a strong, tight-knit family was just what they needed. . . right?