Fletcher

____________

FLETCHER ____mercenary, informant ____she/he; gnc ────────────────────── ✥ ────────────────────── To this day, Fletcher doesn't know how she ended up in the Hidden Forests, but what she does know is that something is off about this place. His sharp senses could sense something is up with the way the locals act, the way almost none of the dragons ever leave the woods or question anything, the invisible controlling grip of the council. But he also could tell there's something bigger at play, something not to be messed with. And so, the skydancer stays out of trouble. Minimal to none interaction with the villagers, isolated and distant lifestyle - she's not quite interested in interpersonal relationships, or making his life harder. Fletcher always observes her surroundings, however, and knows that some dragons here seem to be less like they are under a spell than some of the others. Those ones do pique his interest somewhat - he has a soft spot for misfits and rebels like her, that may be disliked by those in power. Though it may also be the secrets those "othered" dragons hold that Fletcher is really interested in. Fending for himself, Fletcher works for hire - if she's not paid for something, if it's not her job, then it's none of her business. Odd jobs style, there's many things he does for a living, but a lot of it may or may not be of dubious and shady nature. When he's not busy with work, you can often find him at the local taverns of wherever she's at that night - probably enjoying some drinks, and maybe even learn a dark secret or two from the loose-tongued dragons around. Just like every other dragon that does leave the Hidden Forests sometimes, the skydancer always finds herself back there eventually. Whatever it is that is going on, and as much as he didn't want to end up dragged into it, Fletcher realizes that she too, failed to avoid falling under the forests' spell.

____________

---

"Hmm," Fletcher looks down at her drink, tapping the wooden mug with her claws and pretending to be deep in thought, but clearly not feeling all that invested in the topic, "I'm not the kind of dragon that makes friends, just connections that benefit me or my clients."

In a lower tone, "The folks at this place feel distant. Something's off about the Hidden Woods, and so no matter how nice the dragons you meet may be, it doesn't feel like a very tight-knit community. They may know each other, sure, but not many are all that close, with the exceptions of their very small circles," he says, warily, "I'm better off not getting myself into that mess, whatever there is going on in the background. I get a job, I do it, I mind my business."

"Although," Fletcher says, now genuinely looking like he's considering something, "There's a small group of dragons everyone seems wary of, who don't exactly fit in with the rest, they are a curious bunch. The swamp weirdos everyone seems to hate are pretty interesting too. It's like they aren't under the weird spell like the rest of the locals. The enemies of the state are to my liking," she cackles, "..and I guess the beekeeper seems pretty sweet. Not sure what we'd talk about though," Fletcher trails off awkwardly.

Then takes a swing out of his mug.

"But enough about me," he smiles, putting his mug down with an audible thud, her stare locking on you intently, "Let's talk about you. Everyone has their dark secrets they don't spill. I'm a great listener though," Fletcher smiles wily, "So how about you tell me some of yours?"

---

---