✧ Reflection of genetic abnormality plagues him, those often kept hidden beneath a mask whenever possible. Such covers often fashioned after a draconic or avian resemblance.
✧ Displays albinism and diprosopus/craniofacial duplication bringing about the appearance of two muzzles and three eyes. The central orb a conglomeration of what should have been two, housing multiple pupils within it.
✧ Survival of such mutations lay heightened by the touch of magic and, within his mind, the bond of draconian beasts.

✧ Porcelain skinned and bearing rather soft features even against malformation, such a presentation stirring forth hidden anxieties.
✧ Soft eyes reflect a reddish-pink tone with pupils stricken by blueish hue, curiosity often laced within such a gaze.
✧ Has white fluffy hair, wispy and rather unkempt. Typically appears choppy as if cut with his own blade rather than by any of true skill.
✧ Fairly small in stature and never truly reaching a healthy weight or even general status of well-being.
✧ Marked in various scars, many he refuses to talk about.

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naïve . distrustful . grim . curious . sarcastic . fearful

✧ severely self-conscious over appearances
✧ looks upon others, whether stranger or not, with suspicion
✧ despite his distrustful nature the boy is rather gullible, easy to sway into doing things that he should not or go against his better judgement
✧ aims to please those that grow close to him or at least weasel their way into his mind

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Slow to form trusting bonds with another, there is hardly a being which manages to hold his gaze for long. An inability to trust cemented deep within a fragmented mind - outsiders, those within the clan itself - all are looked upon with suspicion. Worry that they could turn on him at any given moment… once he was seen as useless to them. A time surely lurking just around the bend. Nerves make him jumpy, flinching from sudden motion and sound, anything one may perceive as a threat. Thinking something is there even if there is not. Anxious to the core, illusions cast from the mind that blend with reality.

Whispers that foretell dismay. Those which repeat the lessons learned though both word and the harshness of another’s touch. Everything woven together to forge a rather grim outlook on life, always seeing the worst out of every situation. Yet despite it all the boy is dangerously curious. Forcing himself to ignore both real and fabricated dangers, a want to see what lies beyond the brutality of the ruins which bore him. Naivety plagues the mind at each turn, little known of the world outside as nothing more than stories told by travelers form ideas of lands and beasts unknown. But their words differed so much from the clans… and how could such phrases be anything but true?

Musing often kept silent, those dwelt with did not wish to hear the lyrical tones of an abomination. Judgment, disgust, false whispers of love from a mother even as her eyes shown with the same hatred. Taught to serve, to bend to another's whims without question - it would lessen any punishment for thoughtless acts whenever courage managed to rear its head and banish flourishing unease. But from the start it was clear, one cannot rely on others. It is up to the individual to survive and get what they want in life. The higher ups within the Drih’liri were certainly not shy of taking what they desired by force, the snap of gouging tusks or the press of a blade.

Yet still he aims to please. Latching on to those who treat him as more than just a simply toy, offer more than disdain. The boy clings to softened phrases, easily drawn into the arms of those who speak in dulcet tone. Far more eager to serve them than any who turn to violence… and yet a savage touch is never denied. Stirring forth memories buried, of everything taught in his youth. Disappointment could be death. And while one may have wished for such an embrace once upon a time, there have been passing moments which drive him to hold tightly to that every flickering flame now.

✧ monster born in the eyes of those who raised him, suspicion cast toward whatever manner of witchcraft could form such a child
✧ malformation hidden whenever taken into the eyes of others though it is a mother who spins tales of beasts, how it is they which granted him life
✧ trained as a hunter to support himself and, in part, his clan
✧ eventually managed to slip away from a master's bonds, became a nomad yet never can forget the ingrained whispers of the draconic