Rambutan

Rambutan hatched mere moments before her sister, with all the ferocity of a spring storm.

And like an omen, it did storm, and her first memories were of cool rain on her scales, mud clinging to her claws. She remembers turning her face up to the darkening sky, thunderous rumbling through her bones. She remembers the life-sowing power and violence of that storm, the rain beating down in sheets, the grasses quivering in the wind. Nothing else in her life shaped her quite so thoroughly as that first memory.

Throughout her life, she has charged head-first into every challenge life has given her, unshakable and rough, tender without mercy.

She lives and thrives off of sheer determination alone, choosing to love like it's an act of rebellion. Hers is a necessary violence, the violence of survival, of life and rebirth, of spring storms and weeds breaking through cracks in the cement, of all the fury necessary to thrive in the face of adversity. Yet she's fiercely protective of those she loves, gentling for those who are soft and vulnerable.

Rambutan is both warrior and a peacemaker and believes, above all else, that life will find a way, even in the most improbable of situations.