Name: Firian
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Rank: Hunter, Weyr-Folk

Appearance: Firian is compact, standing at 5' 9''. Most of his body is comprised of sharp lines and toned muscles, though he moves with almost fluid grace that belies his sturdy form. Turns of moving silently and quickly through varied terrain has given him quick reflexes, sharp eyesight and surprisingly fast motions. His hair is a dirty brown that he keeps long and ties back. He doesn't cut it because, if he wears it right, it keeps the biting crawlers from getting at his neck - which removes a major annoyance. His skin is a dark, even bronze shade that is only broken in the area immediately below his waist. His eyes are slightly slanted, though not by much, and a deep, true black. On his left arm, lower collar bone, and across his chest he has claw scars from when he was little. His voice is a light baritone, but rough from infrequent use.

Personality: Firian is somewhat gruff but good natured. He treats everyone alike, be they weyrleader or drudge. Which isn't to say he's rude, he just doesn't see the need to pay much attention to rank. Everyone's human so everyone deserves certain considerations, but they are still basicly the same as he is. Firian only had the barest schooling when he was little, preferring to skip lessons and head off exploring on his own, so he isn't all that good with "book stuff." Still, he has a developed sense of fair play and logic. Strategy, maps and puzzle-solving come to him easily, and when it comes to wood-smarts you won't find anyone better. He helps the healers and cooks on occasion by grabbing any rare herbs and plants he finds on his long trips outside the Weyr.
Animals are an enourmus part of his life. He trails, traps and kills them for a living, but he also nurtures and protects them in the process. He is careful to observe population density of both predators and prey, only killing what he feels is appropriate, and he takes care to learn behavioral patterns of the animals he kills. If, for example, an animal has babies in the spring and mates in the fall he will only kill it in the fall: that way the young from the last season will have time to grow and mature. With the animals he trains he is strict but loving. Canines are his specialty. He breeds the large, wolf-like strain that is used for hunting, herding and sometimes for turning the kitchen spits. Firian has both his lizard and his canines trained to follow voice, whistle and hand signals.

History: Firian was born on the Southern Continent and only recently transferred to Telgar with the remains of the Weyrfolk from Southern. He has always lived in a Weyr, though he never really had much of an ambition to become a dragonrider. He thought about it, who hasn't after all? But other pursuits appealed to him more. His father was a brownrider who wasn't all that responsible. No one really knows why the man died, though the popular opinion is that he got roaring drunk and failed to properly visualize his coordinates. However it happened, Firian spent most of his life under the care of his Uncle - who his mother fostered him with. The man was very similar to how Firian himself turned out to be: hard to anger and lax in terms of rank. Even when Firian was four turns old, his uncle treated him like an adult. This led Firian to want to behave like an adult instead of a kid. For the most part it wasn't a problem, he was responsible and did a fair amount of work to help out, but it did get him into trouble once. Thinking he could handle it, a 13 turn-old Firian went out to try and kill one of the persistant felines that was a frequent raider of the weyr herds. He did manage to catch it in his snare, but he caught it by the hind foot instead of around the neck. The result was one P-Oed feline and one seriously sliced up kid. If one of the dragonriders hadn't been out on patrol and seen the boy struggling to hold the big cat off Firian would not be alive today. His uncle scolded him a little, but then proceeded to a disciplinary tactic that was far more effective: he made the incident a joke. The man meant well, and only used the tactic because he knew it would be the most effective route. He was right. Firian never took such a large risk ever again.
Firian became a capable hunter and a good, sturdy friend. All sorts of weyr-folk and dragonriders alike counted him as a friend. He wasn't around often enough to cause trouble, but just enough to stay familiar with everyone. If someone's in a jam- WHAM: he's there. It doesn't matter if he knows them or not. Helping others is the right thing to do, in his opinion. Just because he's dependable doesn't make him a talker though. For one thing, he doesn't know a lot of "big words," for another he usually doesn't have much to say. When he does speak, Firian has a gift for getting right down to the truth of a matter and laying it out, plain and simple for people to see. Despite being untutored he is polite to everyone, and enjoys a dance now and then.
He agreed to come with the rest of the weyr folk when the merger between Telgar and Southern was made, mostly for the chance to see new forests and plains and learn about all new animals and plants. He also agreed, though, to get away from Southern for a while. He lost his brown fire lizard to the plague, which was a serious blow to him: the little lizard had been his oldest friend, from his mother as a birthing day present. Despite his grief he's enjoying himself quite a lot, even if he feels a little awkward whenever the issues between the dragonriders are brought up. "Ehhhh... S'not my business," is his usual response to any queries on the matter, along with a shifty, withdrawn look. If anyone persists in asking his opinion, he'll tell them the truth. He thinks it's a shame that everyone's having such a hard time getting on with one another, especally since he knows a lot of people who'd probably enjoy one another's company. He applauds the weyrlings and candidates who he sees making an effort to get along and stop fights between their peers, as usual choosing to focus on the positive rather than the negative.

Pet(s): One brown firelizard, Brox, now deceased. Green Fire Lizard, Nian, two years old. Three canines, two boys and one girl: Drixus (Drix for short), Arthos, and Svia. They are littermates and are 4 years old.