Post by Tirya Moonflame on Jul 24, 2012 10:43:34 GMT -8
Player: Tirya
Character name: S’ran (Saydran)
Age: 17
Gender: Male
S’ran has shaggy mid-brown hair, just long enough that it brushes his shoulders, and dark brown eyes that a more romantic-minded person would call ‘chocolate brown’. S’ran himself would be more inclined to call them ‘dirt-colored’, if he even bothered to specify a shade of brown in the first place.
At a height of 5’7”, he is noticeably short, but not awkwardly so. He has a tan to rival a rider’s, what with all the time he spends and has spent outside; hunting, traveling, whatever. They’re all outside, so they all contribute to time spent in sunlight. His arms and legs are marked by a few old, thin scars from various scuffles and mishaps over the Turns.
He speaks with a rough accent, as he never had a formal education. However, he’s been around well-off people enough – mostly when scouting for targets to steal from – that he’s picked up a surprisingly large vocabulary of more sophisticated words.
Most of S’ran’s clothing is various shades of brown, with the exception of a somewhat-threadbare red long-sleeved shirt. This shirt is his favorite, and he takes it off as little as possible, hence the threadbare-ness. He’d probably wear more vivid colors if he could, but when you’re living off the land with little contact with civilization, you wear what you can get. Undyed hides are brown, and there’s no reason to buy dyed ones when you can make undyed ones yourself. When you can trade for cloth, it’s usually in colors that are good for camouflage, so that means more brown. Color is a rare luxury you have to earn the marks and trade goods for by yourself, which is why he loves his red-dyed shirt so much.
S’ran always has at least one knife on his person, be it a belt knife, sleeve knives, or any other kind of knife he feels like carrying. In the wild, you never know when you’ll need a knife ready, so he’s developed the habit of always having them ready.
S’ran is ruthlessly practical and efficient; if you’re going to survive outside society, you need to get things right as quickly as you can, and you can’t afford not to be practical, or you risk starving or freezing. To that end, he may not have a formal education, but he’s quick to notice things, quick to decide what to do about them, and quick to act on those decisions, though he’s also capable of patiently waiting if that’s the best course of action.
His life as a holdless person has made S’ran highly skeptical of conventional authority, though he will obey if it’s in his own best interest to. He’s even willing to tone down his innate sense of sarcasm if he absolutely has to. He is generally very cynical of everything he sees; he never takes things at just face value, even if he sometimes gives the appearance of doing so.
S’ran is very, very blunt. He calls things as he sees them, and he doesn’t care whose feelings he steps on, as long as they aren’t someone who can make his life miserable. However, he’ll make an effort to soften things a bit for anyone that he actually cares about; so far his uncle is the only person on that list, but he’s open to the idea of friends if he can find people he doesn’t think are idiots.
Saydran was born to Sara and Lyden, members of a rather petty and vicious group of Holdless. While the two loved each other and cared about their son, they didn’t have the temperament or inclination to raise their child themselves, so as soon as he was weaned they foisted him off on his mother’s older brother.
Saydran’s uncle Aryn was more moral than the average Holdless, and rather sick of the behavior of his group, but had stayed with them because that was where his family was. Saydran complicated matters; he did his best to instill his code of honor in his nephew, but he didn’t want the boy to grow up with thoughtless, self-centered adults as the majority of his role models. So, when Saydran was six, Aryn gathered a few other adults of like mind and they left to form their own band.
Aryn’s moral code considered being Holdless to be a valid alternative lifestyle, one that didn’t have to cause undue harm to those that preferred to be tied down. Supplies were to be hunted, gathered, and scavenged when possible. Supplies that couldn’t be obtained in those ways were to be traded for if possible, but usually stolen from someone who wouldn’t miss them. Baubles and low-denomination marks belonging to the well-off were considered fair game for theft. The band moved fairly often, both to avoid detection and for a change of scenery. They migrated based on the weather; warmer months were spent in northern areas, and winters spent in the south. The unusual band did well, and slowly attracted more members, though it stayed fairly small, with a record headcount of fifteen. Aryn, as the founder, was the de facto leader, and took that job very seriously. He always had time for his nephew, though, and made sure Saydran learned everything he needed to stay alive and well: hunting, tanning hides, fishing, bartering, thieving, stealth, knife-fighting, and more.
When Saydran was fourteen, Thread started to fall. This would have been a huge setback for their group, but Aryn had been planning what to do in case Thread came back, and had modified routes and safe caves ready for use. There was initial grumbling about the new living quarters, and several members went to join groups that didn’t move around as much – “where there was less chance of getting eaten” – but soon enough the new routine became familiar. They still told wistful stories of the days before Thread, especially when they were trapped by unexpected Falls, but as a whole the group was practical enough that their new life was a nuisance, but not a real problem.
After three solid Turns of Thread, Saydran started getting tired of having to be so careful about their camps. He was used to the open sky and forests, not caves. With that in mind, he started to plan: if he managed to Impress a dragon, he could fly anywhere he wanted, even if there was Thread, and he could fight it too. He supposed people were worth protecting, even if they were stupid a lot of the time, and he definitely thought the land was worth protecting. It was what supported him and his ‘family’, after all.
He decided that, of all the Weyrs, he wanted to find a way to get to the one he’d heard was on the Western Continent. Normally he wouldn’t have believed a rumor as outlandish as one of a new Weyr, but he and various members of the band had heard about the Western Weyr in several different places across the continent, so there had to be at least a grain of truth to the story. And so what if this Weyr was full of criminals? Saydran was a something of a criminal himself, and would have no clue how to fit in with normal people at an Eastern Weyr. Besides, if the rumors were right and Western was petitioning to be officially recognized, they had to have a survivable amount of civilization. The only problem would be actually getting there.
Saydran kept his ear to the ground for any gossip that would lead him to a Western Searchrider, and was very pleased when he heard rumors that Igen was allowing Western to Search in their territory. He summarily packed up his few belongings, said goodbye to his uncle – who was sad to see him leave, but proud that his nephew was going out to forge his own path – and set off for Igen Weyr. Even if the rumors were wrong, constantly asking about Western Searchriders might be enough to get the Weyr to bring one over for him out of sheer exasperation.
As it turned out, he didn’t have to ask anyone; the first person to talk to him was Western’s Senior Weyrwoman, who promptly Searched him and brought him to her Weyr. A month later, Phediath’s first clutch hatched, and he Impressed to bronze Urukath.
Now that he’s met his goal of Impressing a dragon – a bronze, even! – S’ran isn’t quite sure what he wants to do next, other than enjoy Urukath’s company, of course. Going through Weyrling training and fighting Thread is a given; other than that, S’ran has no specific aims, and intends to take things as they happen.
Theme: Orc
Credit: Isra
Image Base By: Mistywren
Name Based On: 'Uruk' means 'orc' in the Black Speech, the language of Mordor created by Sauron.
Color: Bronze, #54461B
Rank: Weyrling
Clutch: Gold Phediath and bronze Ulaith – Turn 4
Personality:
Weyrlinghood:
Mating Flights:
Threadfall:
Mindvoice:
Description:
Name: Ruka (also known as "Minion")
Color: Blue, 9EB9DA
Description:
A breathtaking flit. He's sleek and muscular, his movements feline and graceful, and he's built in absolutely perfect proportion. It looks as though he could have been carved from glass... or ice, as the case may be, each inch of him flawlessly etched into existence by the hand of the greatest sculptor to have ever graced Pern. And his hide! It's an exquisitely pale shade of blue, nearly white around the edges but darkening into a colder, wintery hue toward the middle, with flecks and striations of ice marbling all along across it. The arms and fingers of his wings are the dominant, frigid azure color, but his wing sails are so pale a blue that one can quite easily see through them, as if they really were made of the finest glass.
As chilling as his countenance is, so too is his demeanor. You'd think he was a bronze for all of his haughtiness. He's prim and proper, with no room for frivolities and games, and so naturally has a bit of a temper for those who try to coerce him into playing, or who disrupt him in any unseemly sort of manner. That being said, you're not likely to find a better behaved firelizard, or one who can take instructions so precisely and follow them to the letter. He's a canny chap, and though he might seem cold and emotionless, there is one who commands his heart utterly; his dearest Pet, to whom he will remain faithful and loyal without question for all of his days.
Character name: S’ran (Saydran)
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Appearance
S’ran has shaggy mid-brown hair, just long enough that it brushes his shoulders, and dark brown eyes that a more romantic-minded person would call ‘chocolate brown’. S’ran himself would be more inclined to call them ‘dirt-colored’, if he even bothered to specify a shade of brown in the first place.
At a height of 5’7”, he is noticeably short, but not awkwardly so. He has a tan to rival a rider’s, what with all the time he spends and has spent outside; hunting, traveling, whatever. They’re all outside, so they all contribute to time spent in sunlight. His arms and legs are marked by a few old, thin scars from various scuffles and mishaps over the Turns.
He speaks with a rough accent, as he never had a formal education. However, he’s been around well-off people enough – mostly when scouting for targets to steal from – that he’s picked up a surprisingly large vocabulary of more sophisticated words.
Most of S’ran’s clothing is various shades of brown, with the exception of a somewhat-threadbare red long-sleeved shirt. This shirt is his favorite, and he takes it off as little as possible, hence the threadbare-ness. He’d probably wear more vivid colors if he could, but when you’re living off the land with little contact with civilization, you wear what you can get. Undyed hides are brown, and there’s no reason to buy dyed ones when you can make undyed ones yourself. When you can trade for cloth, it’s usually in colors that are good for camouflage, so that means more brown. Color is a rare luxury you have to earn the marks and trade goods for by yourself, which is why he loves his red-dyed shirt so much.
S’ran always has at least one knife on his person, be it a belt knife, sleeve knives, or any other kind of knife he feels like carrying. In the wild, you never know when you’ll need a knife ready, so he’s developed the habit of always having them ready.
Personality
S’ran is ruthlessly practical and efficient; if you’re going to survive outside society, you need to get things right as quickly as you can, and you can’t afford not to be practical, or you risk starving or freezing. To that end, he may not have a formal education, but he’s quick to notice things, quick to decide what to do about them, and quick to act on those decisions, though he’s also capable of patiently waiting if that’s the best course of action.
His life as a holdless person has made S’ran highly skeptical of conventional authority, though he will obey if it’s in his own best interest to. He’s even willing to tone down his innate sense of sarcasm if he absolutely has to. He is generally very cynical of everything he sees; he never takes things at just face value, even if he sometimes gives the appearance of doing so.
S’ran is very, very blunt. He calls things as he sees them, and he doesn’t care whose feelings he steps on, as long as they aren’t someone who can make his life miserable. However, he’ll make an effort to soften things a bit for anyone that he actually cares about; so far his uncle is the only person on that list, but he’s open to the idea of friends if he can find people he doesn’t think are idiots.
History
Saydran was born to Sara and Lyden, members of a rather petty and vicious group of Holdless. While the two loved each other and cared about their son, they didn’t have the temperament or inclination to raise their child themselves, so as soon as he was weaned they foisted him off on his mother’s older brother.
Saydran’s uncle Aryn was more moral than the average Holdless, and rather sick of the behavior of his group, but had stayed with them because that was where his family was. Saydran complicated matters; he did his best to instill his code of honor in his nephew, but he didn’t want the boy to grow up with thoughtless, self-centered adults as the majority of his role models. So, when Saydran was six, Aryn gathered a few other adults of like mind and they left to form their own band.
Aryn’s moral code considered being Holdless to be a valid alternative lifestyle, one that didn’t have to cause undue harm to those that preferred to be tied down. Supplies were to be hunted, gathered, and scavenged when possible. Supplies that couldn’t be obtained in those ways were to be traded for if possible, but usually stolen from someone who wouldn’t miss them. Baubles and low-denomination marks belonging to the well-off were considered fair game for theft. The band moved fairly often, both to avoid detection and for a change of scenery. They migrated based on the weather; warmer months were spent in northern areas, and winters spent in the south. The unusual band did well, and slowly attracted more members, though it stayed fairly small, with a record headcount of fifteen. Aryn, as the founder, was the de facto leader, and took that job very seriously. He always had time for his nephew, though, and made sure Saydran learned everything he needed to stay alive and well: hunting, tanning hides, fishing, bartering, thieving, stealth, knife-fighting, and more.
When Saydran was fourteen, Thread started to fall. This would have been a huge setback for their group, but Aryn had been planning what to do in case Thread came back, and had modified routes and safe caves ready for use. There was initial grumbling about the new living quarters, and several members went to join groups that didn’t move around as much – “where there was less chance of getting eaten” – but soon enough the new routine became familiar. They still told wistful stories of the days before Thread, especially when they were trapped by unexpected Falls, but as a whole the group was practical enough that their new life was a nuisance, but not a real problem.
After three solid Turns of Thread, Saydran started getting tired of having to be so careful about their camps. He was used to the open sky and forests, not caves. With that in mind, he started to plan: if he managed to Impress a dragon, he could fly anywhere he wanted, even if there was Thread, and he could fight it too. He supposed people were worth protecting, even if they were stupid a lot of the time, and he definitely thought the land was worth protecting. It was what supported him and his ‘family’, after all.
He decided that, of all the Weyrs, he wanted to find a way to get to the one he’d heard was on the Western Continent. Normally he wouldn’t have believed a rumor as outlandish as one of a new Weyr, but he and various members of the band had heard about the Western Weyr in several different places across the continent, so there had to be at least a grain of truth to the story. And so what if this Weyr was full of criminals? Saydran was a something of a criminal himself, and would have no clue how to fit in with normal people at an Eastern Weyr. Besides, if the rumors were right and Western was petitioning to be officially recognized, they had to have a survivable amount of civilization. The only problem would be actually getting there.
Saydran kept his ear to the ground for any gossip that would lead him to a Western Searchrider, and was very pleased when he heard rumors that Igen was allowing Western to Search in their territory. He summarily packed up his few belongings, said goodbye to his uncle – who was sad to see him leave, but proud that his nephew was going out to forge his own path – and set off for Igen Weyr. Even if the rumors were wrong, constantly asking about Western Searchriders might be enough to get the Weyr to bring one over for him out of sheer exasperation.
As it turned out, he didn’t have to ask anyone; the first person to talk to him was Western’s Senior Weyrwoman, who promptly Searched him and brought him to her Weyr. A month later, Phediath’s first clutch hatched, and he Impressed to bronze Urukath.
Goals
Now that he’s met his goal of Impressing a dragon – a bronze, even! – S’ran isn’t quite sure what he wants to do next, other than enjoy Urukath’s company, of course. Going through Weyrling training and fighting Thread is a given; other than that, S’ran has no specific aims, and intends to take things as they happen.
Urukath
Theme: Orc
Credit: Isra
Image Base By: Mistywren
Name Based On: 'Uruk' means 'orc' in the Black Speech, the language of Mordor created by Sauron.
Color: Bronze, #54461B
Rank: Weyrling
Clutch: Gold Phediath and bronze Ulaith – Turn 4
Personality:
To say he's a little rough around the edges wouldn't be far from the truth at all. Urukath is blunt and one hundred percent honest in all things, to the point of abrasiveness and what one might consider to be cruelty. He doesn't sugar coat things, and he won't beat around the bush if he has something to say to someone. This isn't because he enjoys hurting peoples' feelings, but because being anything but one hundred percent honest is a foreign concept to him. Most dragons don't lie as a matter of course, but most of them learn tact from their riders. Urukath is not one such dragon, and he doesn't see why some people consider this to be a bad trait.
As one might imagine, Urukath is something of a loner. He possesses the same bond with the rest of his kind as other dragons, but that bond does not generally compel him into close proximity with other dragons most of the time, either in a physical or emotional capacity. S'ran is enough of a companion for him on most days, and when he does interact with other dragons, it tends to be as one warrior to another, or even as a Captain directing his troops – he is a bronze, after all. To that end, he's not a dragon who easily conforms to being commanded by others; obviously they wouldn't be in a position of authority if they didn't deserve it, but Urukath will remain suspicious until they've actually proven themselves competent in his eyes. If they should fail to do so, they will find him near impossible to command until they have.
That isn't to say, of course, that he doesn't have a heart. It's simply well-shielded and difficult to find. After all, a warrior can ill-afford to have loved ones to worry about when he's in the midst of battle, and his concern with getting himself and S'ran through Threadfall unscathed is generally more than enough emotional distress for him. Should you manage to worm your way into his heart, however, you could wish for no greater ally. Urukath will be your brother-in-arms, your champion, your defender. Acting out against a friend is, in his mind, just as if you acted out against him, and Urukath will respond accordingly. It is generally unwise to harass those he calls comrade, because unlike most dragons, he's not afraid to shove someone around if he feels the situation warrants it.
Given these rather brutish qualities, one might expect Urukath to be rather slow of wit, and to some degree, he is. He's not cunning or canny or really capable of anything that requires a tremendous amount of guile. That doesn't mean he's stupid, just that he much prefers to deal with things directly, and in turn to be dealt with directly. If he thinks you're trying to trick him somehow you'll get to see just how quickly he can get rip-roaring mad, and unless you can prove that you weren't, you'll lose his trust. Thankfully, Urukath isn't the type to hold a grudge, though he would if he could. The truth is that his memory isn't the best; he'll remember what's really, intensely important, but he tends to forget minor details rather quickly.
Weyrlinghood:
Because of his tendency to positively steamroll over any obstacle in his path, Urukath will do very well in Weyrling training. He will also do very poorly in some regards, because once he learns how to do something, the last thing he wants to do is spend days doing it over and over again. He wants to be taught more, regardless of whether or not the Weyrlingmaster thinks he's ready, and it won't take long to discover that Urukath is one of those dragons that pushes himself beyond his limits rather quickly. S'ran will have to keep a close eye on him, especially when they get near to the big milestones, namely flying, firestone training, and learning to go between.
His tendency to charge into things like a bull in a china shop isn't likely to earn him many friends in the process. Even among his peers Urukath will be something of an outsider, and not just because other dragons think he's a show-off or because he's scared them off. He honestly doesn't much care to socialize with his fellow hatchlings, and if S'ran allows it, this will set a trend toward perpetual solitude later in life.
For all of the difficulties he'll present to his rider, Urukath will be thankfully predictable in other respects. He'll grow well and evenly, without a multitude of stop-and-start growth spurts, and while he'll be somewhat ungainly and awkward at first, it won't take him long to grow into himself and adjust to moving and handling his own body with casual ease.
Mating Flights:
Urukath is a fighter, not a lover. This is one bronze who seems to be interested in mating flights only because it's instinctively wired into him, and even then, only just. It's not often, if at all, that he'll bother to chase after greens when they rise. His size is prohibitive enough to keep him from catching them even if he should chase, but unless the need is particularly pressing, or his rider has an interest in the rider of the green in question, Urukath seems utterly content to leave most greens to the other males.
Golds, on the other hand... all bronzes share a special connection to queen dragons, and Urukath is no exception. He's not the type to flirt with or flatter them beforehand, to try and get in their good graces so that they might deign to choose him once they rise. No, Urukath is a fighter even in love, for he will forcefully prove himself to be the most worthy mate. When a gold rises, he chases with single-minded intensity, with no other thought but outdoing the competition and claiming the queen as his own by sheer strength and prowess. He won't wait for her to choose; if he spots an opportunity to make a catch, then he'll reach out and grab it whether she seems ready to be caught or not.
Should he lose a flight, Urukath isn't the type to really hold a grudge unless the bronze that won is a truly insufferable git. He tends to forget the flight rather quickly unless he has a good reason to remember it. Should he win, however, the gold might find him to be surprisingly courteous. He won't be at her every beck and call, won't be a doting and loving mate, but Urukath will do his part nonetheless, hunting for the queen if she requires it and guarding the eggs she lays with the same ferocious intensity he took into the initial mating flight. He will also guard the queen herself until the next time she rises in flight, for until that time, she belongs to him and to no other male dragon, and anyone trying to edge in on his territory will have to deal with him personally.
Threadfall:
Kill it. Kill it, burn it, sear it from the sky. Urukath is made to fight Thread not only in body, but in mind, and you'd be hard-pressed to find a dragon more dedicated to clearing Pern's skies of the parasite than he is. Urukath is a steam engine; what he lacks in the maneuverability of the smaller dragons and the stamina of those larger than he is, he more than makes up with sheer determination and force of will. If Thread is falling, he will rise to flame it, and he will not stop until it's gone no matter how tired or hurt he gets. Because of this, S'ran will have to be particularly careful when gauging the strength Urukath has left during 'Fall so that his dragon doesn't overexert himself or make a minor injury worse by refusing to go and have it treated.
And Urukath is bound to get injured. During 'Fall he is a risk-taker, not simply out of the pressing need of his duty to char Thread, but because he gets a thrill like no other when they Weyr rises to fight the menace. There is nothing to him that is more glorious than the battle, and in his mind, there is no dragon better at fighting Thread than Urukath. He'll go out of his way to prove it if necessary, which will prompt his rider, his Wingleader, and perhaps even the Weyrleader to call him to task for taking unnecessary risks. No matter how mature he becomes, this is likely a trait that will never change, and not just because it's a matter of pride. If he sees Thread, he will sear it from the skies, and woe be it to S'ran if Urukath should ever be seriously injured enough to be grounded from 'Fall for any length of time.
Mindvoice:
Rough, grating. Urukath's voice is granite against marble on a good day, deep and growling and far from comforting. Should you anger him, it turns into something not dissimilar to being stuck in the middle of an avalanche. Unfortunately, there doesn't appear to be much else in between, and it'll take some practice to be able to read the highly subtle nuances of his tone when he speaks to you. Urukath is not a dragon that easily telegraphs his emotions in his thought speech, but there are a few signs to look out for. If he's happy, then he's apt to be more descriptive, his voice more of a flowing rumble. If angry, it turns sharp and short, stone striking against stone, and he'll speak with the minimum amount of words required to get his point across. He might be difficult to read at first, but once you learn to understand him, it will be easy to divine his mood from his tone of voice.
Description:
From nose tip to tail forks, Urukath is built for his purpose in life. This is not a dashing, handsome bronze, not a sleek greyhound or thickly built muscular bull among his color. He is not built to outmaneuver flighty greens or outlast patient golds.
Urukath is built to fight.
On the larger size of average for his color, Urukath might have been considered a buff, bulky dragon had he the musculature to fill out his heavy-boned frame. As it is, he appears somewhat unfinished, his hide stretched over his skeleton like a tautly pulled skin on a drum. He's big in a rawboned sort of way; there is a proliferance of muscle clinging to his body, but he will always look as though he needs more. This in no way detracts from his imposing presence, however; if anything, it only enhances it. The sheer breadth of his chest and shoulders proclaims that he would be a massive beast indeed if he was fully fleshed out... not that anyone in their right mind would ever consider him to be small as he is. And somehow, that rough, angular build only seems to make him all the more fierce looking, as if he'd been etched out of coarse stone instead of hatched from an egg. Even his wings, which are surprisingly long and large, look as if they've been carved from fine, semitransparent jewels instead of being made of flesh.
His features are just as fierce as the rest of him. Urukath's head is heavy and angular, and there's not a person alive on Pern who would ever call him pretty. He's got a strongly cut jaw, broad and with a slight but still pronounced underbite, and no matter what angle you look at him from there are a few teeth that always manage to protrude from his muzzle. His eye ridges are thick and heavy, for all the world making him look as though he is permanently glaring at the whole world... which might not be far from the truth. It cannot even be said that the color of his hide makes up for what he lacks in physical beauty, because it doesn't. True enough, Urukath is certainly a unique hue; he's a dark, deep bronze, his hide flecked with even darker mottling that looks distinctly like old, tarnished rust spots... or maybe dried blood, for they are a reddish bronze hue against the aged, coppery armor that comprises the rest of his hide. The only part of him that could be considered beautiful would be his wing sails, and only if they catch the light in the proper fashion. Even then, there is something unsettling about that beauty, as if the thin membrane has cast a pallor of blood over a dying sun...
Pet Information
Name: Ruka (also known as "Minion")
Color: Blue, 9EB9DA
Description:
Winter Snow Blue
A breathtaking flit. He's sleek and muscular, his movements feline and graceful, and he's built in absolutely perfect proportion. It looks as though he could have been carved from glass... or ice, as the case may be, each inch of him flawlessly etched into existence by the hand of the greatest sculptor to have ever graced Pern. And his hide! It's an exquisitely pale shade of blue, nearly white around the edges but darkening into a colder, wintery hue toward the middle, with flecks and striations of ice marbling all along across it. The arms and fingers of his wings are the dominant, frigid azure color, but his wing sails are so pale a blue that one can quite easily see through them, as if they really were made of the finest glass.
As chilling as his countenance is, so too is his demeanor. You'd think he was a bronze for all of his haughtiness. He's prim and proper, with no room for frivolities and games, and so naturally has a bit of a temper for those who try to coerce him into playing, or who disrupt him in any unseemly sort of manner. That being said, you're not likely to find a better behaved firelizard, or one who can take instructions so precisely and follow them to the letter. He's a canny chap, and though he might seem cold and emotionless, there is one who commands his heart utterly; his dearest Pet, to whom he will remain faithful and loyal without question for all of his days.
