Rowan

Rowan sometimes thinks he was born old. A hundred and thirty years fits him like a glove, made of satin and bone; it sticks to him, but is soft anyway. He's soft.

He spent the first half of his life wandering, never one to stay in one place or with one person. He craved the air under his wings and the vast forests in his sights. He loved meeting new people, learning new things, and finding himself. It was glorious, the things he picked up. His favorite though, had always been firefly catching.

They were such tiny creatures, so frail and jubilant. He was so large, intimidating, scary, yet the little firefly's flew up to him anyway, and landed in between his sharp claws and pointed horns. It was nice, feeling like part of the forest while they swarmed his head and made home on his scales.

And then he travelled to a village, and found an orphanage, and a little red dragon within.

And then he wasn't travelling alone anymore, and it was a lot to get used, having another mouth to feed and a hatchling to raise. He didn't think he was as built for fatherhood as he was age and adventure, but somehow, he found he liked it anyway.

Bristle was his everything.

She loved eating the dandelions they found in fields, so he loved them too.

She loved the fireflies he showed her how to catch, so he loved them even more.

She loved the little bursts of magic that came from between her paws, ones he could never hope to create, so he loved them too. So he brought her to Red.

But Rowan was not made to stay in one place, and he was certainly not made for the strain of magic, so he left. Bristle was happy, and that was what mattered. He could leave her in Red's care, if only until he found his way back to her.

He'd been meaning to make his way to Clara's flight anyway. That would've been their next stop if they hadn't gone to Red. Clara was a protector, and Rowan had been wanting to learn more about protecting. He could not travel forever, no matter how much he wanted to. At some point his age would catch up to him, and his wings would tatter and his claws would dull.

He thought he might have a future as a den mother, if all else fails.


Clara accepts him with open wings, letting him stay as long as he pleases and leave all the same. He always comes back though, because that's where he'd told his little hatchling he'd be, even if she is a hatchling no longer. She'll find her way back to him, or maybe he'll find her.

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Coli Plan: Sedona
- He's an experienced fighter because of his travels, but he doesn't have any proper training, so he's not eliminate good