Felrin

Felrin, who usually goes by "Fel," is both loved and hated by all the clan. He is sweet but smug, mysterious and mature, yet playful and proud. He's every bit as likely to give profound and very nearlly psychic words of wisdom as he is to sneak up on you and light the tip of your tail on fire. His actions might seem chaotic and unpredictable, but there is a flow to him, a rhythm of cackling laughter and purring chides, of great, loping bounds and of slow, sauntering walks as he ambles about the territory. He can't work metal to save his life, but he's a brilliant designer, and he seems to speak the language of jewels, embellishing the fire folk's craft with unnatural ease. More often than not, he cannot be found. Not on purpose, anyway. Fel is nearly always on a walk, or flying high over the territory, out of reach of the smoke and ash, or chasing his peers around relentlessly. Fel only holds still when he's sleeping- and, come to think of it, no one has ever tried to wake him, perhaps you had better just wait.
He often sleeps on top of his bear, who begrudgingly carries him around. He encountered the Bouldersa on accident, trying to yank the crystals out of the back of its neck. Keeping such a sturdy and tolerant creature around didn't seem like a bad idea. The fact that he stumbled upon a sacred guardian and befriended it has been a source of envy for poor Magnefys, who, obsessed, now sees Felrin as a rival avatar.