Dar

He came to them as a hatchling, his green eyes bright and missing nothing. He watched the clan carefully, understanding their ways, studying them thoroughly. It was over a fortnight before he spoke a single word; not because he couldn't, but only because there had been nothing he felt needed to be said.

Dar is a solemn dragon. He speaks little, but hears much, thinks deeply, and considers carefully what he will say before he says it. Though his serious nature often causes other dragons to regard him as despondent or pessimistic, he is actually one of the clan's most passionate idealists. He has vowed to only ever speak the truth, even if it is harsh, because he believes that a hard truth is better than a pleasant lie.

Because he thinks things over so carefully and never rushes into a decision, he is wiser than his years, and the other dragons of the clan have started to go to him with their disputes and arguments, asking him to make a judgement. He has acquiesced to these appeals, and always tries to be completely fair when making a decision, dividing up whatever can be divided equally, and considering claims carefully to determine who is in the right.

Having heard the bits and pieces of Ghost's story that she has let fall, and that she is flightless, Dar begins to watch her as she goes about her day. He watches her wings, noting the way they move and flick and flare, and at last decides that she could fly, if only she knew how, and could build up her weak and atrophied wing muscles to their proper strength.

At last, he approaches her.

“You can’t fly,” he says. It is not a question.

Ghost looks up from where she had been running her claws through her white wolf’s fur, but she doesn’t speak.

“But you could,” Dar continues. Ghost blinks and gazes up at him for a long, long time. Dar waits.

When she does speak, her voice is low and rough with disuse. “How?” she says.