Ghoul

Ghoul
-He/Him-

Ghoul was born into a small clan of Gaolers in the Southern Icefields, but he doesn’t remember much about them. Only vague outlines and blurs of color, he doesn’t even remember his parents’ names.

Ghoul was a fragile hatchling, being smaller than average for a Gaoler. Because of this, he was prone to lagging behind as the clan traveled. He was separated from them in a terrible blizzard, unable to keep up.

He was told that if he was lost he should stay put and shelter, but as the days passed and the snowstorm raged on, there was no sign of his family. Even his fur couldn’t keep out the cold much longer, and he was running out of food. Then, he saw a flame in the distance.

The hatchling was drawn to the flame, thinking it was a campfire. Instead, he found another hatchling lost in the snow. Hearth, a fire Gaoler about the same age as him, had been washed ashore in a flash flood.

The two hatchlings huddled together for warmth through harsh snowy nights, and made their way to a sheltered overhang where they could better recover their strength. Hearth and Ghoul stuck together for the first years of their life, and helped each other survive. Hearth’s natural fire abilities kept them warm and dry, and Ghoul’s familiarity with their surroundings kept them both safe from hazards and dangers.

But with such little food to eat in the snowy tundra, they headed northwest along the ice floats to the Arcane lands. After traveling together for so long, neither of them wanted to leave the other’s side. Both young dragons had grown detached from their homes. Hearth felt no longing to return to the volcanic island he now barely remembered, and Ghoul had no interest in looking for his tribe that had left him behind.

The question was, where would they go now?