Faurael

Pronouns: he/him
Gender: yeahhh... i don't think so
Would They Curse If FR Didn't Censor It:
Profession: Realistically? Academic. One of his heads is an avid reader, bringing books along with any task the body is roped into, and both heads end up in spirited discussions of the material (it can seem like arguments to outsiders sometimes, but his heads get along better than those same dragons would expect.), so even the head that didn't do the reading itself ends up with the knowledge lodged in its brain. Faurael as a whole is a dragon of many talents and tasks, doing whatever is needed in the clan while also doing detectivework to find out information that's useful to him.
Hobbies: Learning, which occurs mainly through reading and talking with other dragons. Faurael has an encyclopedic knowledge of things relevant to him, though due to his youth and relative disinterest in applying this knowledge to real things, most of his knowledge is from the perspective of someone lacking practical experience. He also enjoys the physicality of battling too, as well as being treated equally by the coliseum fighters in the clan, so runs with that crew when the opportunity strikes. Due to so, has become a significantly stronger battler than many his similarly aged peers.
Background: Born the runt of an unfortunate clutch belonging to troubled parents, Faurael has spent a part of his youth martyring himself to prevent ostracization by his peers. Being the smallest and weakest in a group of a dragon breed whose sole goal is to be strong led to him grovelling with grace (and gritted teeth) in hopes of a less painful existence. He volunteered himself for every unsavory task and available job to try to curry favor or sympathy, and jumped at the opportunity to redeem himself in his parent's eyes. His parents had only had disastrous encounters with the Wyrmwound, as he learned, and upon a remark from one of them about not knowing the cause he immediately offered his body and minds to solving the problem. After all, he'd been offering himself up to everyone like this for as long as he could remember; how much different could this be? After being taken in by another clan and growing into his heads and body more, though, he discovered the utter enormity of the task that awaited him; Aberrations weren't widespread enough for most dragons to have a clue about why some could have barely escaped their pilgrimage to the Wyrmwound with their lives intact, and those in this new clan weren't that much older than him. Frantic, he turned to books to try and find any information on the situation as he could get his claws on. How could he be sure something disastrous wouldn't happen to him when he tried his own stint at the Wyrmwound? It's overwhelming, and he buried at least one head in a book at every point that doing so didn't put himself or others in the path of danger. Doing most of his growing in a clan that didn't pressure him to atone for the crime of being born the runt nor push him to be the martyr he'd turned himself into left him feeling rudderless and unsure of his place in this new one. He had trouble adjusting, immediately latching onto any dragon who showed him compassion. It was hard for him to conceptualize in the beginning that it was without an ulterior motive; kindness always had a price tag, didn't it? However, this new clan didn't have a social distinction between runts and the rest of the clutch; what mattered to them, in the end, was for those who intended to serve the Icewarden to be well prepared for the task by the time they intended to head off for there. Runts got the same level of care, if not more to make up for being born smaller, to make sure they could be off to serve in the same time as the other hatchlings. As a hatchling who didn't intend upon heading off to serve anytime soon and thus got to view more of it, Faurael found himself fascinated by the process and care the clan put into raising hatchlings and young dragons for this.
Info: For a dragon whose main hobbies include snooping about and encroaching on anything that seems like it could be useful to his interests, Faurael is remarkably not nosy for anything that isn't relevant to him. Other clanmates wanting his help in snooping about finds a side to him he barely recognizes is there, one that'll throw up excuses and avoid the request as much as possible. He tends to keep to himself, though those who engage him find he tends to become clingy rather quickly. He's still working on not sticking himself like glue to anyone who's nice to him, but he's not quite there yet. His heads seem to have rather different personalities []
Noteable Features:
Header Credits: NO LULLABY by SIAMÉS

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Prometheus
Izanagi

Harrow and ex gaoler in front of him