Saffron

Saffron did not develop the proper wing membrane until much later in his life. He thinks that if he had, he might have followed his sister in becoming a Sky-diver. Instead, he grew up watching her work and work from dawn to dusk, and while he was happy for her, he missed her. She is his first friend, and he did not want to lose that connection with her, so he did the only thing he could to spend time with her. He asked her to train him. It was a horrible idea. He hated every second of the training, but afterward, sitting together and talking or arguing with her, made the rest of it worth it. Never did he imagine the sport rubbing off on him, but over time, he found that while he couldn’t compete in the sport himself, he sure could talk about it. Extensively and extremely critically. The perks of having a passionate sister and an encyclopedic and nitpicky memory. He found his place beside her in the commentators’ booth at her competitions, and his voice has become as much of a known figure in the sport as his sister’s talent. Funny how life works. He’ll gladly listen to his sister ramble any day of the week when he’s resting his voice and loves hiking in forests and grabbing some sweet berry ice with his pals.

He’s positive Melina is not joking about becoming a serial killer if her career as a Sky-diver doesn’t work out, but at this point, he’s too afraid to correct anyone on it.