He has messy red-brown hair that comes down to his chin. Somewhat spiky, he usually forces it into a sort of ponytail. One lock or two usually evades his grasp and hangs over his eye, which he repeatedly brushes to the side. His eyes are a warm gray, reminding several of a stormy day, but nicer. Usually half closed; he gives himself a sort of sleepy appearance. His left eyebrow is severed in half by a white and slightly puckered scar. Making him look like rugged kind of guy. His mouth is a lipsided smile, or a grin, since he is easily amused most of the time.
Medium size in height, he's not the smallest or the tallest. He is somewhat and a little lanky. But that's okay. M'roc is usually wearing wher-hide boots, shined and black. Canvas style pants that end abruptly at the beginning of his boots. A blue vest, and white shirt with no sleeves. He is usually seen with a three-cornered leather hat and a red bandana - his trademark. A single tattoo of a dragon tail winds around his arm. He had gotten it from a passing trader.


When he was Searched, his family was stunned. Nothing more than a hold brat from Fort, he was the first rider in his family's memory. As the third eldest out of seven there wasn't much expected of him even at birth. Most families don't have enough inheritance for two sons, let alone a third. At the age of nine he had already begun working around the Hold doing miscellaneous tasks that'd bring his family money. By fifteen he was already knee-deep in the trader craft and had accepted what his life would be.
At eighteen he was plucked out from his Trademaster's workshop and brought to Fort Weyr to stand the current Hatching. Many of the boys were injured and thrown around by the dragonets, including him, but unfortunately none chose to Impress him that time around. He was allowed to return to Fort Hold to pick up his life again only to be hauled right back to the Weyr a turn later. A brown Hatched first, squalling much like a newborn, covered in shell shards and sand. A body-sized bruise and a bloody-nose later, brown Cairokelth climbed off of him satisfied with the choice he made.
The pair, following Weyrling Training, spent little time at Fort. After graduation, M'roc and Cairokelth were placed directly into a wing, and were given no time to dally before being drilled on formations — to test his Weyrling Training. Hardly anything significant happened; M'roc and Cairokelth stood out amongst their peers, or elders. They were a hardworking pair, and nothing more. That hardworking nature is what caused them to receive a request to transfer — To Igen. The Weyr had recently suffered a major loss of it's residents — Riders and 'Folk. There was much to done, much to rebuild, and M'roc quickly accepted, and has since packed up his few belongings and transfered. Igen isn't quite Ierne, but the pair are busying themselves with work, and spending time with Sianne (a fellow Fortian who has transferred) to make the change easier.


Name Relation Location Position
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Gold Bharie
Palest yellow gold, her hide is sheer perfection in its uniformity across her entire body. From her rather angular head, to her near perfect but definately too lengthy swanlike neck, she seems just this side of perfection. The rest of her body is similar, lithe without being too skinny, delicately rounded across her shoulders and then down to her haunches before then leading to her whiplike tail with its barely rounded spade. Lavishly bright are her wings, with their brilliant golden sheen across her expansive sails, to her seemingly fringed and ruffled trailing edges and then the subtle boning of her wingspars to support the silken membranes.

Brown Bryer
An underlying natural color of pale beechwood had been stained with rich honey maple, full of warm orange glows and red highlights, forming a luminous base for this brown firelizard. The smooth, suppleness of his hide, polished to a bright, glossy sheen holds the tight-knit markings of a woodgrain, with long straight lines fitted against horseshoe curls and fingerprint whorls. His wings are a spectacular, yet subtle display, the membranes of the blue stained with the palest dawn-blue wash, while the left has the hint of a leafy green, like a color painted long ago has seeped through his new stain. Hints of other colors are present as darker or lighter tassels across his body, though one particularly pale shade on his back, between his wings, shows a pale, almost leathery color not unlike what a tiny, firelizard-sized saddle might appear as.

Blue Bans
Shimmering flashes of color cloth the handsome firelizard in dark inky blue. His hide is smooth and sleek with a luminous quality very like to expensive satin. Every movement causes the slick contour to change and glimpses of glossy color flash: midnight blue, indigo, and even the rare fire of clear cut sapphire. Ebony black caps his muzzle as well as the patented leather tipped talons. His build is small, sleek and svelte with well proportioned wings and limbs just right for his size. Everything about him just screams for attention from the ladies.


Brown Cairokelth

Molten caramel-tan marches along the bulky frame of this smallish Brown, pale and sunfiltered but strong all the same — not so strong as chocolate or Klah, but certainly not as weak as khaki, beautiful and buttery all in the same moment. Darker smudges of bubbling, cooked sweetner coat his neck and back, crisping in little splotches while pouring down over the leading edges of his limbs. Stripes of the same rich golden-brown tick the end of his tail, while his two hind feet darken slightly. Faint speckles of almost-gold dance along his entire body, creating the lllusion of scratches, tiny golden pockmarks. His wings are broad, ready for the twisting and turning that a dragon of his size might enjoy — the sails are a contrasting klah-and-milk, handsome and creamy.

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