Folas grew up among the eerie and avoided, his parents best known for their strange appearance and monotonous voice that stood hairs on end. He didn't really mind, finding the society of forsaken dragons just as welcoming as others--or so he decided to think. He quickly became oddly obsessed with the concept of death, particularly life after death and practices pertaining to such things. He spent some time simply researching the many different religions and opinions of afterlives and how each was handled in society, eventually deciding to become a graveyard groundskeeper to attempt his part in caring for the afterlife. Some bitter part of him still hated the idea of common society, the concept of caring for a life that spoke of him as evil or cursed left a sour taste in his mouth.

Sometime along the way, Folas met a similar young hatchling by the name of Saovulf, though he had no family to speak of as Folas had. He welcomed the youth into his life, forming a close friendship with the similiarly misfit dragon as they delved into the world of afterlife care. While Folas got his schooling from a groundskeeper himself, Saovulf began his through stilted conversations between them, eventually graduating to eavesdropping in bushes. By the time Folas was prepared to take on his own graveyard, Saovulf had accumulated just as many skills as he.

They worked together for a long time, tending and abiding by afterlife law as best they could. Saovulf was always closer with the spirits themselves, which was fine, but Folas truly excelled at the finer points of graveyard care. Where Saovulf would get distracted by this or that, Folas could pinpoint a problem and have it fixed within the hour almost every time. Folas still cared for a spoke with the spirits of course, even as his energies were more focused on the world of the living. He never quite realized how dangerous that could be.

He hadn't meant to anger the spirit, had followed all the laws to the T as always. He'd left an offering, stayed on the path, gave payment at the gate and greeting the Black Dog. He apologized to the grave he stepped on, cleaned it of its mess, and continued to work, fixing a headstone that had been struck by one too many acorns from the tree above it. He had felt the chill, dismissed it as wind, and regreted it near instantly. He cannot recall much of the attack, only that it was violent and quick, leaving him gasping for mere seconds before all was lost. He recalled most vividly the guilt he felt, forcing the spirit into such agonizing anger. He never even had the chance to say goodbye to Saovulf.

It would be many months before Folas would remerge, this time in the afterlife. He wasn't surprised, knowing his tie to his friend would keep his spirit on the mortal plane for a fair amount of time. What he was surprised to see was a new location, a new Black Dog and a very, very tired Saovulf. Once he got the other half of the story, Folas was delighted to be among the Flyers, particularly as he connected with other ghosts. Folas can only watch as Saovulf grows now, accepting more responsibility and working to ensure the tragedy that befell him never does so again, to anyone. This time at least, he has a friend on the other side.