Unnamed

Whatever her name was, the only address she was given was a sad look in passing dragon's eyes. No matter where she wandered, dazed and confused, she would only ever receive glances of pity. But... it didn't irritate her. She was just kind of... confused.

A long time ago, or rather, a few months ago, a brave Wildclaw warrior of the Plague flight made checkard scarf a deal to complete an unbeatable challenge. Boasting often that she could take any dare, win any duel, and understand any puzzle, she was quick to agree. The terms were daming, however.

"I will remove you from yourself, then your challenge is to find yourself again." The dragon spoke with some distaste for that word... 'you.' He had often ranted about his disliking of the Plague Flight's methods, a Nature Flight memember and a historian. "If you can do that, then you will have truly proven yourslef to me."

When she woke up again, she didn't remember anything about herself. From her skills in battle, to her bloodlust, raised into her bones: they were all gone. She was left as a somewhat airheaded, unlead, wandering dragon, damned to search the world for who she was. Of course, she didn't know that. She was to intrigied by the butteflies, to busy asking for food without knowing what 'food' was. The branches weren't very tasty, and the dirt wasn't getting her anywhere...