Crisantemo

He sits by her through the good times and the bad, the raging headaches, the screams of laughter, the pain of loss, and he holds her as close as he can.

Command didn't choose to be born this way. No one else should be allowed to kill her for hatching.

Over the years, that conviction has only grown. They call him a Guardian, say that he has the heart of a leviathan even if it's buried in the feathers of a coatl. He supposes that's true.

Even his Guardian's heart couldn't protect Command from her heritage forever, though.

To those around him, Crisantemo is a feature of any bar scene. He dances, laughs, drinks, cracks bad jokes. His acquaintances are pretty sure the guy has sired- and left behind- more clutches than most of them would know what to do with. However, on rare occasions he has been known to drink himself into a fugue instead of a partying mood, mourning past mistakes and errors that cost him everything.