Post by Deleted on Aug 15, 2014 7:45:02 GMT 1
NAME: Helle Falk
AGE: 25
OCCUPATION: Assistant Healer
GENDER & SEXUALITY: Female, mostly hetero
LIKES: Children, a successful hunt, sweet things, the silence during a heavy snowfall
DISLIKES: Bitter foods, patients that won't cooperate, being sick, breaking a bow string, performing amputations
STRENGTHS: marksman with a bow, intelligent, driven, thoughtful
WEAKNESSES: impatient, aloof, quick to judge, unforgiving
FEARS: losing a limb, having a child (she's seen childbirth up close and personal), killing someone through her own error while trying to heal them, drowning
AMBITIONS: become a Master Healer, find a nice husband that doesn't want children (or is willing to adopt), discover more about her great grandmother's family, travel abroad
SECRETS: hates swimming in deep water (fears drowning, but won't admit to it considering they're vikings), accidentally shot herself in the foot with her bow one time.
OVERALL PERSONALITY: Helle is a vibrant, intense young woman who is relentless in any cause that she undertakes, making her oddly suited to her profession as a Healer. She is not always the most patient person, but any injured or ill person put under her care will damn well get better or she'll find out why. Despite this, her patients rarely complain, as Helle is a genuinely thoughtful person at the end of the day, even though she can come off as rather aloof to those who are unfamiliar with her. It is common for her to go out of her way to make a patient more comfortable, or to lend a hand to someone in need around the village. Don't try thanking her for it, though, as it only embarrasses her and is bound to be brushed off and left unacknowledged.
Helle possesses a keen intelligence that allows her to grasp new concepts with relative ease, and to pick up subtle clues about a person's personality or habits when she first meets them. She is, unfortunately, prone to sticking very firmly to her first impression of a person due to her faith in her own observational skills. Due to this, it can take a lot of time and effort to change her opinion on a person once it has been made. Similarly, if she is wronged, Helle is an unforgiving woman who is nearly impossible to find reconciliation with once everything is said and done.
Though she tends to be very no-nonsense while working, Helle does, in fact, possess a sense of humor. It tends to be very wry and understated when coming from her, but she is capable of finding many things funny. In fact, she is a firm believer in the old adage 'laughter is the best medicine'. If a favorite patient, or a friend, is feeling particularly down, she'll do her best to try and cheer them up with whatever terrible jokes or funny stories have been going around the village that she has overheard.
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:
Helle is a tall woman, standing at 5'11", with a lean build that comes from an active lifestyle. Her shoulders and arms are particularly well defined thanks to two decades of wielding a bow like an extension of her own arm. About average in the curves department for a woman, Helle does find herself envying her younger sister's more generous hourglass figure from time to time, but not so much that she would be willing to give her her active lifestyle and archery for the sake of softening her figure.
Like so many on Berk, Helle has fair hair that turns bright gold in the summers after extended exposure to the sun, but darkens to a sandier shade during the dark, brutal winters. She keeps it long, the thick waves falling to the middle of her back, but she almost constantly wears braided in a crown around her head to keep it out of the way while she works. Unlike those she shares hair color with, though, Helle possesses unusually dark skin, an inheritance from a great grandmother that came from a far away land generations ago and never left. Even in the darkest parts of winter, her skin remains a warm, golden brown color.
Helle's face is strong and angular for a woman, particularly when it comes to her large, slightly arched nose. It gives her a distinctly foreign look, though things are brought back around to 'normal' as soon as one looks into her large, light, hazel eyes. Her eyes are hooded, but expressive all the same, and framed by long, dark lashes. Her eyebrows are just as angular as the rest of her face, and are remarkably well suited to expressing her wry sense of humor. A pair of full, sculpted lips that are often pulled up in a crooked smile finish the ensemble with a prominent dimple in her right cheek.
Leading a busy, often difficult, lifestyle has definitely left it's marks on Helle's body. Her right thigh still bears the vivid scar from when her dragon, Swordfang, bit her during their first meeting. It still aches whenever a storm is coming. Her hands are calloused from shooting her bow daily, and the rest of her bears a myriad of other scars, half of which she doesn't even remember how she got.
HISTORY:
Though she looks as though she could easily hail from somewhere far away, Helle was born and raised on Berk to a family that has lived there for generations. Her dark coloration and angular features run through her father's side of the family, hailing back to her Great Grandmother, who hailed from far to the west of berk in a land of vast deserts. She arrived on the island as a merchant on a large ship, but never again left after she unexpectedly found love with one of Berk's residents. Though the dark hair and eyes have faded from the Falk gene pool, the family still retains it's unsually dark skin-tone.
Helle was brought up in a well-to-do family of good name on Berk, and never wanted for anything as a child. Her father, and those who came before him, were bowyers, makers of some of the finest bows to be found on Berk. Specializing in bows made from dragon horn (using only those that have been naturally shed for the last 300 years), Falk bows are always in demand, meaning that the family business is still running strong after all these years. The Falk family not only makes bows, though, but are all extensively trained in how to shoot them as well. Everyone in the family is trained to marksman status, no matter how long it takes. Helle, at least, picked up archery from the age of five, when she received her first bow, and took to shooting like a dragon to the air.
The middle of three children, Helle knew early on that she would have to strike out on her own path if she ever wanted to distinguish herself. Hjalmar, her elder brother, was destined to inherit the family business, while her younger sister, Elva, was the princess of the family that everyone doted on. Helle was well loved, but no one in her vast family seemed to know what to do with the headstrong girl. Eventually, she announced that she would become a Healer, as she felt it was a suitable challenge for someone who loved to learn the way she did. This suited everyone fine, so she started in on her apprenticeship the same time as she started at the dragon academy.
While it was difficult, Helle managed to keep up with both schools, though it was a long time before she finally met a dragon that she wanted to become her partner. In the mean time, she focused on learning the techniques and how to speak dragonese. It wasn't until she was nearly seventeen that Helle finally met Swordfang for the first time. Unfortunately, the meeting was anything but pleasant.
Over the past several months, Helle had finally decided to take a more active position on finding herself a dragon partner, particularly after her brother and younger sister met and tamed their own dragons. Hjalmar was the proud tamer of a glorious, golden Monstrous Nightmare, while her younger sister had managed to get a sleek and lovely Noxian (not to mention the colony of Faerie Whisps she tended to). Unhappy with being the only one left out, the girl had taken to having her brother drop her off on distant parts of the island, or different islands all together as she searched for a dragon of her own.
On one such fateful trip, Hjalmar dropped her off on a small island some miles south of Berk with a few days supplies and her bow. After waiving goodbye to her brother, Helle wasted no time before hiking up into the island proper to get her bearings. It was a task easier said than done, as the forest proved to be vast, and full of immense trees that seemed to grow up into the sky forever.
After hours of walking without seeing anything, Helle heard a pitiful crying that sounded not unlike an infant. Worried, and no small bit confused, considering the island was supposedly uninhabited, she searched for the source of the sound. It didn't take her long to spot something small thrashing in a clearing, though it took her a moment longer to realize that it was a baby dragon. She approached warily, knowing all too well that mama could be close by, ready to jump her. The dragonet was clearly injured, though, so the healer in training could hardly resist for long, and was soon crouched within arm's distance of the little, winged, scaly fluffball.
It was an infant Sabertoothed dragon, caught in an ancient looking dragon trap with vicious teeth that had closed around one of it's legs. Unable to soothe the creature into calming itself so she could help, Helle had to do her best to work on the trap while keeping her extremities away from the dragon's toxic mouth. The decrepit trap was just starting to shift with a roar all but deafened Helle, and agony lanced through her leg. In a flash, she found herself inexplicably tumbling through the air before landing so hard that she blacked out.
When she woke moments later, Helle was terrified to find herself nose-to-nose with a mother Sabertoothed Dragon. The creature was magnificent, all browns and greens and a hint of gold that allowed her to blend in flawlessly with the sun dappled forest around her. Helle, though, was more immediately concerned with the arm's-length fangs in her face as the creature loomed over her. The throbbing, burning pain in her leg didn't bode well, either, and she was abruptly reminded of the toxicity of a Sabertoothed Dragon's bite.
The dragoness snarled viciously, though Helle's still shaky grasp of Dragonese allowed her to catch a few words.
'hurt...baby...kill you!'
"No, it wasn't me, I swear!" Helle cried automatically, throwing her arms up in her defense as the dragon lunged closer, crying out in Dragonese 'Not me!'
'Yes you,' the dragon snarled ominously, hot, acidic breath stirring Helle's hair.
'Not me! Old trap! OLD trap!' Helle tried to explain, breaking out in a sweat as the pain in her leg worsened.
It took time, and convincing, but Helle finally made the dragon understand that it was not her trap, or even a recent trap that had snared her baby. Of course, she wasn't quite expecting the dragon to demand she free her baby. She did, though, and Helle was forced to comply, despite her wound. The Sabertoothe refused to let her leave to clean it before coming back, and though she was annoyed, the woman couldn't blame her, considering the state of her youngling.
Long minutes later, Helle was finally able to drag the trap open and free the baby, though it was in bad shape. The mother Sabertoothe licked it worryingly, but allowed the young woman to leave all the same now that her task was done.
Though the state of the baby dragon worried Helle, her own worsening health in the face of a poisonous bite worried her even more, and she forced herself to get down to the shore and clean herself up as best she could before setting up a signal fire for help with the last of her strength. Luckily, her brother was on watch as he had promised to be, and the next morning he found her there, dazed and delirious from the effects of the toxins, though it was not as bad has it could have been thanks to the thorough cleaning she had given the wound.
He whisked her back to Berk, and after a few days spent in recovery, was surprised when she insisted that he take her back. Though he thought her quite mad, Hjalmar finally agreed, and they returned to the lonely island together and sought out the Sabertooth and her cub.
The little creature was doing poorly, a fact that was made obvious when the previously possessive mother actually allowed Helle close enough to look at it. Infection had set in, and though she was no Dragon Healer, she knew that the dragonet needed serious help that she could not provide, though convincing the mother of this was perhaps the most daunting task she was ever faced with.
Eventually, though, after Hjalmar's Monstrous Nightmare weighed in, the Sabertoothe was convinced to take her cub to Berk, though she refused to stay behind, and insisted on carrying her baby herself. Helle was relieved enough that the dragon had even agreed that she was more than happy to allow her to come along.
The dragon healers were more than a little wary of the untamed Sabertoothe, but were unable to say no when they saw the state of her cub. The young mother ever lurked just outside the healing stables while her cub was cared for, and was only barely convinced to eat the food that Helle brought for her after being reminded that she'd not be any good to her baby if she starved herself.
Finally, the dragonet was well enough to leave, and it was with a great deal of relief that Helle watched the pair fly off together, back to their island home. She refused to admit to herself that she wished they would stay, as she rather had a feeling that trying to have that conversation with the mother just might kill her.
Needless to say, she was taken completely by surprise when, the following spring, the Sabertoothe dragon returned to Berk and sought Helle out, acting as though there were nowhere else in all the world she was supposed to be. Her baby grown and off on his own, the dragon, now known as Swordfang, had decided that perhaps the little human who had helped save her son was interesting enough to keep her entertained now that her nest was empty. Helle gladly accepted, though she had the distinct impression that she was about to get in way over her head. Still, she was never a girl to back down from a challenge...and so a new partnership was born.
WEAPON OF CHOICE: Re-curved horn bow made from the horns of her father's Monstrous Nightmare. Helle's father made it for her years ago from the shed horns of his own dragon. He has a matching bow from the rest of the horns.
FIGHTING STYLE: Skilled archer, even from dragonback. Hours and hours of practice have gone into perfecting this skill ever since she tamed her dragon. She's an even better shot on the ground, as she started learning to shoot a bow when she was just five years old and her father crafted her a child's practice bow for her birthday. Also knows basic hand-to-hand combat and sword fighting from her academy days.
DRAGON:
NAME: Swordfang
TYPE: Sabertoothed Dragon
APPEARANCE: Mostly mottled greens and browns with hints of hold in her fur and scales, she blends into a forest frighteningly well. Her long fangs are dark and stained from years of use, but still as sharp as ever and as long as Helle's arm. Her claws and spines are a deep brown, nearly black, along with the spikes at the end of her thick, powerful tail. She is a knuckle walker with paw like fingers on her wing, and rear feet not unlike a cat's. This allows her to move surprisingly quietly for something her size. Fur is interspersed with heavy plating on her body, making her very durable, but a poor long distance flier due to her weight. Her short, webbed wings are good for sharp turns, but not so much for catching thermals. Her eyes are a deep golden hue flecked with green.
PERSONALITY: A haughty, easily annoyed creature, Swordfang has little patience for things that don't catch her interest. Her temper is short and sometimes frightening, but on the plus side, she rarely holds grudges. She is very possessive of Helle, but rarely makes a large display of this fact unless she feels that her partner is being threatened. Instead, she usually prefers to subtly undermine or interfere with people who show interest in Helle, as the Sabertoothe feels that her human's time would be better spent paying attention to her rather than someone else. Valhalla forbid another dragon should attempt to show Helle affection in Swordfang's presence, either, as it is common for her to take offense or make a display of dominance in such a situation.
Helle has been working with Swordfang on her temper, and over the years it has lessened somewhat, at least to the point that she won't actually harm someone when she becomes irritated. Despite her sour moods, the Sabertoothe does feel genuine affection for Helle, but prefers to show it in subtle ways, or when she is sure that there is no one else around to see her.
STRENGTHS: Extremely fast in short bursts when fighting on the ground. Good at hovering for long periods and making tight landings. Very agile with powerful tail attacks.
WEAKNESSES: Not a good long distance flier. Dislikes water/rain and refuses to fly in it unless need is dire. Doesn't always follow orders.
KEYWORD HIDDEN IN RULES: ****************
CBOX NAME: JolieMariella
AGE: 25
OCCUPATION: Assistant Healer
GENDER & SEXUALITY: Female, mostly hetero
LIKES: Children, a successful hunt, sweet things, the silence during a heavy snowfall
DISLIKES: Bitter foods, patients that won't cooperate, being sick, breaking a bow string, performing amputations
STRENGTHS: marksman with a bow, intelligent, driven, thoughtful
WEAKNESSES: impatient, aloof, quick to judge, unforgiving
FEARS: losing a limb, having a child (she's seen childbirth up close and personal), killing someone through her own error while trying to heal them, drowning
AMBITIONS: become a Master Healer, find a nice husband that doesn't want children (or is willing to adopt), discover more about her great grandmother's family, travel abroad
SECRETS: hates swimming in deep water (fears drowning, but won't admit to it considering they're vikings), accidentally shot herself in the foot with her bow one time.
OVERALL PERSONALITY: Helle is a vibrant, intense young woman who is relentless in any cause that she undertakes, making her oddly suited to her profession as a Healer. She is not always the most patient person, but any injured or ill person put under her care will damn well get better or she'll find out why. Despite this, her patients rarely complain, as Helle is a genuinely thoughtful person at the end of the day, even though she can come off as rather aloof to those who are unfamiliar with her. It is common for her to go out of her way to make a patient more comfortable, or to lend a hand to someone in need around the village. Don't try thanking her for it, though, as it only embarrasses her and is bound to be brushed off and left unacknowledged.
Helle possesses a keen intelligence that allows her to grasp new concepts with relative ease, and to pick up subtle clues about a person's personality or habits when she first meets them. She is, unfortunately, prone to sticking very firmly to her first impression of a person due to her faith in her own observational skills. Due to this, it can take a lot of time and effort to change her opinion on a person once it has been made. Similarly, if she is wronged, Helle is an unforgiving woman who is nearly impossible to find reconciliation with once everything is said and done.
Though she tends to be very no-nonsense while working, Helle does, in fact, possess a sense of humor. It tends to be very wry and understated when coming from her, but she is capable of finding many things funny. In fact, she is a firm believer in the old adage 'laughter is the best medicine'. If a favorite patient, or a friend, is feeling particularly down, she'll do her best to try and cheer them up with whatever terrible jokes or funny stories have been going around the village that she has overheard.
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:
Helle is a tall woman, standing at 5'11", with a lean build that comes from an active lifestyle. Her shoulders and arms are particularly well defined thanks to two decades of wielding a bow like an extension of her own arm. About average in the curves department for a woman, Helle does find herself envying her younger sister's more generous hourglass figure from time to time, but not so much that she would be willing to give her her active lifestyle and archery for the sake of softening her figure.
Like so many on Berk, Helle has fair hair that turns bright gold in the summers after extended exposure to the sun, but darkens to a sandier shade during the dark, brutal winters. She keeps it long, the thick waves falling to the middle of her back, but she almost constantly wears braided in a crown around her head to keep it out of the way while she works. Unlike those she shares hair color with, though, Helle possesses unusually dark skin, an inheritance from a great grandmother that came from a far away land generations ago and never left. Even in the darkest parts of winter, her skin remains a warm, golden brown color.
Helle's face is strong and angular for a woman, particularly when it comes to her large, slightly arched nose. It gives her a distinctly foreign look, though things are brought back around to 'normal' as soon as one looks into her large, light, hazel eyes. Her eyes are hooded, but expressive all the same, and framed by long, dark lashes. Her eyebrows are just as angular as the rest of her face, and are remarkably well suited to expressing her wry sense of humor. A pair of full, sculpted lips that are often pulled up in a crooked smile finish the ensemble with a prominent dimple in her right cheek.
Leading a busy, often difficult, lifestyle has definitely left it's marks on Helle's body. Her right thigh still bears the vivid scar from when her dragon, Swordfang, bit her during their first meeting. It still aches whenever a storm is coming. Her hands are calloused from shooting her bow daily, and the rest of her bears a myriad of other scars, half of which she doesn't even remember how she got.
HISTORY:
Though she looks as though she could easily hail from somewhere far away, Helle was born and raised on Berk to a family that has lived there for generations. Her dark coloration and angular features run through her father's side of the family, hailing back to her Great Grandmother, who hailed from far to the west of berk in a land of vast deserts. She arrived on the island as a merchant on a large ship, but never again left after she unexpectedly found love with one of Berk's residents. Though the dark hair and eyes have faded from the Falk gene pool, the family still retains it's unsually dark skin-tone.
Helle was brought up in a well-to-do family of good name on Berk, and never wanted for anything as a child. Her father, and those who came before him, were bowyers, makers of some of the finest bows to be found on Berk. Specializing in bows made from dragon horn (using only those that have been naturally shed for the last 300 years), Falk bows are always in demand, meaning that the family business is still running strong after all these years. The Falk family not only makes bows, though, but are all extensively trained in how to shoot them as well. Everyone in the family is trained to marksman status, no matter how long it takes. Helle, at least, picked up archery from the age of five, when she received her first bow, and took to shooting like a dragon to the air.
The middle of three children, Helle knew early on that she would have to strike out on her own path if she ever wanted to distinguish herself. Hjalmar, her elder brother, was destined to inherit the family business, while her younger sister, Elva, was the princess of the family that everyone doted on. Helle was well loved, but no one in her vast family seemed to know what to do with the headstrong girl. Eventually, she announced that she would become a Healer, as she felt it was a suitable challenge for someone who loved to learn the way she did. This suited everyone fine, so she started in on her apprenticeship the same time as she started at the dragon academy.
While it was difficult, Helle managed to keep up with both schools, though it was a long time before she finally met a dragon that she wanted to become her partner. In the mean time, she focused on learning the techniques and how to speak dragonese. It wasn't until she was nearly seventeen that Helle finally met Swordfang for the first time. Unfortunately, the meeting was anything but pleasant.
Over the past several months, Helle had finally decided to take a more active position on finding herself a dragon partner, particularly after her brother and younger sister met and tamed their own dragons. Hjalmar was the proud tamer of a glorious, golden Monstrous Nightmare, while her younger sister had managed to get a sleek and lovely Noxian (not to mention the colony of Faerie Whisps she tended to). Unhappy with being the only one left out, the girl had taken to having her brother drop her off on distant parts of the island, or different islands all together as she searched for a dragon of her own.
On one such fateful trip, Hjalmar dropped her off on a small island some miles south of Berk with a few days supplies and her bow. After waiving goodbye to her brother, Helle wasted no time before hiking up into the island proper to get her bearings. It was a task easier said than done, as the forest proved to be vast, and full of immense trees that seemed to grow up into the sky forever.
After hours of walking without seeing anything, Helle heard a pitiful crying that sounded not unlike an infant. Worried, and no small bit confused, considering the island was supposedly uninhabited, she searched for the source of the sound. It didn't take her long to spot something small thrashing in a clearing, though it took her a moment longer to realize that it was a baby dragon. She approached warily, knowing all too well that mama could be close by, ready to jump her. The dragonet was clearly injured, though, so the healer in training could hardly resist for long, and was soon crouched within arm's distance of the little, winged, scaly fluffball.
It was an infant Sabertoothed dragon, caught in an ancient looking dragon trap with vicious teeth that had closed around one of it's legs. Unable to soothe the creature into calming itself so she could help, Helle had to do her best to work on the trap while keeping her extremities away from the dragon's toxic mouth. The decrepit trap was just starting to shift with a roar all but deafened Helle, and agony lanced through her leg. In a flash, she found herself inexplicably tumbling through the air before landing so hard that she blacked out.
When she woke moments later, Helle was terrified to find herself nose-to-nose with a mother Sabertoothed Dragon. The creature was magnificent, all browns and greens and a hint of gold that allowed her to blend in flawlessly with the sun dappled forest around her. Helle, though, was more immediately concerned with the arm's-length fangs in her face as the creature loomed over her. The throbbing, burning pain in her leg didn't bode well, either, and she was abruptly reminded of the toxicity of a Sabertoothed Dragon's bite.
The dragoness snarled viciously, though Helle's still shaky grasp of Dragonese allowed her to catch a few words.
'hurt...baby...kill you!'
"No, it wasn't me, I swear!" Helle cried automatically, throwing her arms up in her defense as the dragon lunged closer, crying out in Dragonese 'Not me!'
'Yes you,' the dragon snarled ominously, hot, acidic breath stirring Helle's hair.
'Not me! Old trap! OLD trap!' Helle tried to explain, breaking out in a sweat as the pain in her leg worsened.
It took time, and convincing, but Helle finally made the dragon understand that it was not her trap, or even a recent trap that had snared her baby. Of course, she wasn't quite expecting the dragon to demand she free her baby. She did, though, and Helle was forced to comply, despite her wound. The Sabertoothe refused to let her leave to clean it before coming back, and though she was annoyed, the woman couldn't blame her, considering the state of her youngling.
Long minutes later, Helle was finally able to drag the trap open and free the baby, though it was in bad shape. The mother Sabertoothe licked it worryingly, but allowed the young woman to leave all the same now that her task was done.
Though the state of the baby dragon worried Helle, her own worsening health in the face of a poisonous bite worried her even more, and she forced herself to get down to the shore and clean herself up as best she could before setting up a signal fire for help with the last of her strength. Luckily, her brother was on watch as he had promised to be, and the next morning he found her there, dazed and delirious from the effects of the toxins, though it was not as bad has it could have been thanks to the thorough cleaning she had given the wound.
He whisked her back to Berk, and after a few days spent in recovery, was surprised when she insisted that he take her back. Though he thought her quite mad, Hjalmar finally agreed, and they returned to the lonely island together and sought out the Sabertooth and her cub.
The little creature was doing poorly, a fact that was made obvious when the previously possessive mother actually allowed Helle close enough to look at it. Infection had set in, and though she was no Dragon Healer, she knew that the dragonet needed serious help that she could not provide, though convincing the mother of this was perhaps the most daunting task she was ever faced with.
Eventually, though, after Hjalmar's Monstrous Nightmare weighed in, the Sabertoothe was convinced to take her cub to Berk, though she refused to stay behind, and insisted on carrying her baby herself. Helle was relieved enough that the dragon had even agreed that she was more than happy to allow her to come along.
The dragon healers were more than a little wary of the untamed Sabertoothe, but were unable to say no when they saw the state of her cub. The young mother ever lurked just outside the healing stables while her cub was cared for, and was only barely convinced to eat the food that Helle brought for her after being reminded that she'd not be any good to her baby if she starved herself.
Finally, the dragonet was well enough to leave, and it was with a great deal of relief that Helle watched the pair fly off together, back to their island home. She refused to admit to herself that she wished they would stay, as she rather had a feeling that trying to have that conversation with the mother just might kill her.
Needless to say, she was taken completely by surprise when, the following spring, the Sabertoothe dragon returned to Berk and sought Helle out, acting as though there were nowhere else in all the world she was supposed to be. Her baby grown and off on his own, the dragon, now known as Swordfang, had decided that perhaps the little human who had helped save her son was interesting enough to keep her entertained now that her nest was empty. Helle gladly accepted, though she had the distinct impression that she was about to get in way over her head. Still, she was never a girl to back down from a challenge...and so a new partnership was born.
WEAPON OF CHOICE: Re-curved horn bow made from the horns of her father's Monstrous Nightmare. Helle's father made it for her years ago from the shed horns of his own dragon. He has a matching bow from the rest of the horns.
FIGHTING STYLE: Skilled archer, even from dragonback. Hours and hours of practice have gone into perfecting this skill ever since she tamed her dragon. She's an even better shot on the ground, as she started learning to shoot a bow when she was just five years old and her father crafted her a child's practice bow for her birthday. Also knows basic hand-to-hand combat and sword fighting from her academy days.
DRAGON:
NAME: Swordfang
TYPE: Sabertoothed Dragon
APPEARANCE: Mostly mottled greens and browns with hints of hold in her fur and scales, she blends into a forest frighteningly well. Her long fangs are dark and stained from years of use, but still as sharp as ever and as long as Helle's arm. Her claws and spines are a deep brown, nearly black, along with the spikes at the end of her thick, powerful tail. She is a knuckle walker with paw like fingers on her wing, and rear feet not unlike a cat's. This allows her to move surprisingly quietly for something her size. Fur is interspersed with heavy plating on her body, making her very durable, but a poor long distance flier due to her weight. Her short, webbed wings are good for sharp turns, but not so much for catching thermals. Her eyes are a deep golden hue flecked with green.
PERSONALITY: A haughty, easily annoyed creature, Swordfang has little patience for things that don't catch her interest. Her temper is short and sometimes frightening, but on the plus side, she rarely holds grudges. She is very possessive of Helle, but rarely makes a large display of this fact unless she feels that her partner is being threatened. Instead, she usually prefers to subtly undermine or interfere with people who show interest in Helle, as the Sabertoothe feels that her human's time would be better spent paying attention to her rather than someone else. Valhalla forbid another dragon should attempt to show Helle affection in Swordfang's presence, either, as it is common for her to take offense or make a display of dominance in such a situation.
Helle has been working with Swordfang on her temper, and over the years it has lessened somewhat, at least to the point that she won't actually harm someone when she becomes irritated. Despite her sour moods, the Sabertoothe does feel genuine affection for Helle, but prefers to show it in subtle ways, or when she is sure that there is no one else around to see her.
STRENGTHS: Extremely fast in short bursts when fighting on the ground. Good at hovering for long periods and making tight landings. Very agile with powerful tail attacks.
WEAKNESSES: Not a good long distance flier. Dislikes water/rain and refuses to fly in it unless need is dire. Doesn't always follow orders.
KEYWORD HIDDEN IN RULES: ****************
CBOX NAME: JolieMariella
