Cezine of Kiskja

Name: Cezine
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Rank: Wherhandler… sort of.

Location: South Run, West

Appearance:
Standing at roughly 5'4, this young woman is fairly average as far as her height goes, looking up at most men and meeting most women eye-to-eye. Her skintone is a light golden brown, though it's hard to say whether it's sun-induced or hereditary. Perhaps a bit of both. Her hair, at first, is easily and often mistaken for black. It's very dark indeed, and unruly. The ends curl into tight little ringlets, no matter what's done with them. Her hair is short for easy maintenance, falling around her face in large, bouncing curls. In any decent light, however, it quickly becomes obvious that her hair is not black, but is in fact a deep, dark red. Her eyes are a tad on the large side, but somewhat narrow, lending her a dusky, come-hither appearance. They are a smoky gray-blue in color and fringed with thick, dark lashes.

Fitting to her height, Cezine's build is not stocky or muscled. Rather, she sports a leaner, more willowy build. She is not 'skinny' by any means and boasts ample feminine curves. Her waist is slim and narrow, a bit on the short side, and while her hips can't be considered 'large' by any means, she has enough to make it clear that she's a woman. Legs and arms are long and slender as well. Her cheekbones are high and her lips full and inviting, especially when she smiles. All in all, she has the potential to be a very elegant woman, and exhibits the sort of grace and poise in her movements that most girls train doggedly for years to attain. She prefers to look presentable but doesn’t really place too much importance on physical appearance. Cezine prefers her clothing in shades of purple, silver/gray, and blue, among others; anything that doesn’t clash with her dark red hair. Bringing out her eyes is an added bonus. Although she does dress well much of the time, this young woman has no qualms with wearing her ‘grungies’ and getting her hands dirty.

Personality:
Cezine has a very hands-off approach. In fact, she prefers to blend in with everyone else and be as inconspicuous as possible. She doesn’t hesitate to step forward when necessary, and she’s not afraid to take on new responsibilities. Everyone knows that they can go to her if there’s a problem and she’ll never make unfair demands of their time or skills. Cezine doesn’t ask of anyone what she’s not willing to do herself. Strong without being overbearing, there is also a sense of gentleness that accompanies the strength that she exhibits. Whether it’s simply her femininity showing through or just another of her own qualities is hard to say. She’s relatively quiet and unobtrusive, choosing instead to listen to what’s being said instead of raising her voice to be heard over others.

Ordinarily, Cezine's temper is not the explosive sort. She has a long fuse and is capable of taking a lot of crap before finally reacting. When she is pushed to the limit, hers is a slow-burning temper that can last for hours, days, even Turns. Grudges make up a huge part of her temper, and much of the time she is hard pressed to forgive once she reaches that point and will never forget. She also has a penchant for being extremely petty to those who have angered her in some way, although she hides it quite well. Cezine finds it hard to believe in 'being the better person' when she feels she's been wronged somehow. Two wrongs may not make a right, but it sure makes /her/ feel better. Fortunately, she's not one to dwell on issues such as these; most of the time she chooses to focus her energies on other things rather than dwell on the negative and become bitter.

Probably her greatest fault is her tendency to turn things on herself. Cezine tends to take people under her wing and provide support for whomever needs or wants it. She often spreads herself too thin, and when some calamity befalls her (major or minor), it's a great upset to her. She often turns bitter blame onto herself, whether said incident was her fault or not; she will always somehow convince herself there was something she could have done to prevent it or lessen the consequences. Fortunately, rather than mope and cry for a sevenday, she quickly picks herself up and moves on, determined to learn something rather than make herself a burden for others to carry.

Fortunately, it’s her sense of humor that she keeps near the surface. She has a tendency to grin or laugh at things she feels she shouldn’t, which always makes her feel guilty but it’s something that can rarely be helped. For the most part, Cezine is an upbeat and energetic young woman who enjoys being around others even if it’s only to people watch. She’s very loyal to those she calls friends and is willing to do just about anything for those she holds dear.

Family:
Deline; mother, 36
Carlin; father, 40
Dalnir; brother, 16
Dezlin; sister, 12
Calize; sister, 10

Background:

Cezine’s was a normal childhood; her parents both worked, her father in the mines and her mother as an assistant to the wherlingmaster. The oldest of four children, she was often left to care for her siblings and manage the household while her parents were gone for the day. Being that her mother was heavily associated with the community’s thriving wher population, Cezine and her siblings all became quite familiar with the creatures at a young age. It was her parents’ hope that they might join the wherhandlers’ ranks. As soon as she was of age, Cezine was put before a hatching clutch, encouraged to go forward and Impress.

However, the clutch was small, the crowd was large, and the quiet girl was reluctant; by the time she reached the front of the group, the only eggs left were a couple of lonely duds. Oddly enough, Cezine was all right with this; it was more her parents’ intention for her to bond with a wher more than her own. She had decided that she was doing it more to indulge them, especially her mother. The next clutch to hatch counted her brother among the hopefuls but not Cezine, as she hadn't wished to ‘compete’ against one of her siblings. Dalnir proved successful, walking away bonded to a handsome (as far as whers went anyway) brown beast.

When she was fifteen Turns of age, it finally happened. Cezine was bonded to a blue wher, much to the delight of her parents. Cezine also found herself rather pleased; she hadn't realized the extent to which wher and handler bonded until she experienced it firsthand. Unfortunately the joy was short-lived. Cezsk was a weak, sickly wher with an odd deformity in which his wings were puny and stunted, even for a wher. In spite of her best efforts and those of her family, by her sixteenth birthday Cezine had lost her companion.

Although her parents quietly hinted at her to re-bond, Cezine’s heart wasn’t in it; she became despondent, even more quiet and subdued if not outright melancholy. It was only after a sevenday or so that she began going through the normal motions of the typical day but anyone could see that she still wasn’t the same. Her younger siblings all clamored to keep her busy and distracted and while it worked to an extent, that noticeable difference was still present. Cezine would often leave the house to go for walks by herself, leaving her brother to manage the house in her absence. After one such instance she returned home after making certain the house was empty enough to avoid running into anyone. She had brought something back.

She had found the egg, seemingly abandoned, along one of the rocky trails that she frequented. Having assumed it to be a forgotten wher’s egg she had almost left it there, but there was something so forlorn about it that she just hadn't had the heart. The odds of it still being viable after being left for who knew how long were almost nil but at least she’d be able to say she’d tried. Cezine wasn’t sure she was ready for another Impression so soon but in spite of her doubts she nurtured the egg as best she could, using all the knowledge that she had gleaned from watching her mother care for abandoned eggs over the Turns.

One day after she’d all but given up hope that the egg would ever hatch, Cezine entered her room to gather her clothes for a batch of laundry when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She’d turned just in time to see a crack widen in the egg, pieces of the shell flaking off to pepper the ‘nest’ around it. Immediately she dropped the clothes and dashed over to stare in disbelief, fighting down a flurry of panic. She hadn't planned this far! She had no idea what to do with it now, as she’d never actually imagined the egg would actually hatch.

Resisting the urge to stand in her room and flail uselessly, Cezine had dashed to the kitchen and fetched meat scraps from the day’s dinner preparations. Despite the flurry of thoughts skittering through her head, she’d crouched before the egg and watched breathlessly as the shell continued to flake and crumble; the membrane had seemed to be thick, for all she could see was a milky whiteness with a faint sheen of gold. Her knees had gone weak at the thought of bonding to a gold wher… but there was nothing she could do about it, she’d quickly realized. If this was in fact a wher, then she had to bond to it, or else it would go wild. A wild wher rampaging through the house… it simply could not be allowed to happen.

It seemed like hours passed when in reality it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before the shell finally broke away and Cezine’s mind went blank with horror when she saw what the egg had really contained all along. The ice-wher had begun to thrash, tail lashing and claws swiping the air in an effort to gain purchase on ungainly feet; as Cezine had stood staring in shock at the creature that had emerged from her egg, the ice-wher turned, having won the struggle to stand. Attracted by the scent of the meat, the creature lunged. Instinctively Cezine had raised her hands to protect her face even as needle-sharp pain shot through her right hand. The hand holding the meat.

Resisting the urge to cry out in pain as her blood welled up to mingle with the thin bloody juices from the meat, Cezine had dropped the handful of meat scraps. The ice-wher immediately released her hand and had gone for the scraps that had fallen to the floor, gobbling them up hastily. Cezine was trying to staunch the bleeding from the wounds in her hand, having actually forgotten about the creature in her room momentarily. Until she’d felt the whoosh of hot breath on her skin. Freezing, she’d barely dared to look up, knowing that the ice-wher was standing over where the girl was sitting hunched over her hand. A surprisingly smooth but oddly bony muzzle bumped her bleeding hand and she instinctively jerked it away, but not before a long, slender tongue darted out to lap some of the dark fluid from her skin.

Fearing another bite, Cezine ordered the creature away. It had paused to look at her with oddly intelligent eyes and it was then that Cezine realized she could feel… a question. The ice-wher was questioning her, wanting to know why she was being ordered away. There was no hurt or offense with the silent question, merely a sort of cold curiosity. Stunned, Cezine had been without protest when the creature’s tongue laved over the wounds once more. The coarse texture and the lack of care for the deep puncture marks caused her to wince and snapped her out of her stupor.

That day had been the first of many she’d shared with the fierce creature; at first she’d tried to keep it a secret, but it quickly became obvious that there would be no way she’d be able to keep the creature in her room. Kiskja, as she had begun to call herself, proved to be a rather… interesting companion. It had been made painfully clear that the pair of them did in fact share a bond something like the brief bond that Cezine had shared with her blue Cezsk, but more… distant somehow. Beyond a sort of indifferent curiosity and the ability to read her emotions, the ice-wher didn’t seem to particularly care one way or another for the young woman. But she supposed it was better than being cared for as a meal.

As she grew, Kiskja became a harder secret to keep. Being moved to the stables with the rest of the whers had been a very temporary arrangement and a risky one at best. Kiskja grew rapidly, her growth fueled by the fact that she hunted for herself under cover of night, having been severely cautioned by Cezine not to take any of the local livestock. It was advice that the creature followed not out of any desire to please the human she was bonded to, but because she saw the wisdom in it; she had strength and ferocity on her side but the humans had numbers on theirs.

Unfortunately it was only a matter of time before they were discovered. Around a Turn of age, a guard spotted Kiskja when the hungry ice-wher ventured out on a hunt a little too early. The alarm was sounded and it was a combination of the commotion and the strong feelings from Kiskja that had alerted Cezine to the fact that something was wrong. Realizing the danger, she bolted from the house in time to intervene. No one was injured that night, but the fact that Cezine had been hiding a dangerous animal under their very noses for nearly a Turn had the other Orroans shocked and alarmed.

At first no one had believed that Cezine was truly bonded to the creature, but after she’d made it quite clear that it was so, they were at a loss. They couldn’t very well allow the ice-wher to stay among them but they couldn’t kill her either. There was only one solution, and it was quickly decided that Kiskja was not allowed within city proper. Which meant that Cezine could no longer live there if she was to care for the beast. Although Kiskja was more independent from her than a true wher, Cezine still spent time with her in an attempt to strengthen their bond.

At first she lived on the outskirts of the city and met Kiskja each day for their bonding time, but it soon proved to not be enough. Together they left Orro completely. Cezine sought acceptance with the Montane wing of dragonriders, but once they learned of the creature that she was bonded to, they were also reluctant to accept them. They did, however, direct her to the new Weyr that had recently been founded, thinking perhaps the ragtag group of riders might have a place for the young woman and her unusual (and dangerous) companion.

With that bit of information, Cezine and Kiskja made their way to the Weyr. The worst that could happen was more rejection, after all.

Pets:
None.



Name: Kiskja
Age: 2
Color: Gold

Appearance:
Although she’s of a species referred to as ‘ice-wher’, Kiskja is a completely different draconid altogether. She shares the same type of scaleless hide and the same multifaceted whirling eyes, but other similarities are few and far between. At two Turns old, she still has another Turn or two to go before she’ll be considered fully mature. However even now, she is already of an intimidating size and build. At first sight she is a hulking creature, with elongated, narrow jaws filled with dozens of long, needle-sharp teeth. Her neck is thick and somewhat arched in its natural position, which gives Kiskja a heavy, low-slung appearance. Her hind legs are large and thick with muscle, obviously a source of great power for the beast. Her front limbs are more slender and less muscled although all four limbs are tipped with wickedly sharp claws.

A long winding tail stretches behind her; the base is thickly muscled and appears heavy but the appendage quickly slims and narrows as it goes. It can be used as a weapon as much as teeth and claws; with proper momentum, a perfectly aimed whack from that tail would be enough to make a dragon stagger. Ridges are another similarity with other draconids: bumpy lines on Kiskja’s head extend all the way down her back, growing taller and sharper until they grow into a slight sail-like feature in the middle of her back. It is almost like a fish’s fin, and no doubt aids her in underwater hunting. The ridges continue as sharp protrusions down her tail to stop about halfway to the tail tip.

In spite of her clumsy, bulky appearance when she’s on all fours, Kiskja has the ability to move upright which is actually less awkward than her four-legged stance, although less stable. Her tail helps balance her out, and she often moves on four legs when she’s hunting which brings her head closer to the ground in order to more easily pick up the scent of her prey. While she can run on two legs, for true speed she prefers to drop to all fours and bound across the ground, much like the ‘bunny run’ that dragons are capable of. This sprint is extremely fast and thanks to her muscular hind legs, Kiskja is capable of phenomenal leaps and jumps. With this combination of speed and astonishing jumping capability it’s little wonder that ice-whers are feared predators.

At first glance it is easy to mistake Kiskja for white; her hide is an extremely pale silver and appears quite colorless, especially in poor lighting conditions. When she’s in full sunlight however, it seems as if her hide comes to brilliant life. Not only does it shine and gleam with the same metallic quality of other gold draconids, but the light brings out the warm albeit pale tones in the silver. It looks almost as though her hide is ‘shot through’ with gold pigment. It often leaves one wondering how they ever missed this gleaming golden quality before.

Personality:
While it may be hard for some people to believe that a creature such as an ice-wher could actually have a ‘personality’, it is not as far-fetched as others might think. Kiskja has definitely made her personality well known to Cezine since their odd bonding. The ice-wher is not always a vicious beast. She has a strong sense of curiosity that will often stay whatever initial impulse she may have to respond with her animal instincts. She will often surprise people (including ‘her person’) with just how much she understands and learns of the world around her; she proves more and more each day that she is not just a ‘dumb, vicious beast’.

In the world of humans, Kiskja is often aloof and sometimes downright cold; she seems to care little for Cezine’s presence one way or another in spite of their bond. She carries herself with an almost regal bearing, as if she knows she’s something special. Kiskja refuses to be fed and will often disappear for days at a time to hunt, returning when she is well-fed. Grooming, however, is something that she enjoys, looks forward to, and sometimes even asks for (or in most cases, demands). Kiskja seems very aware of how humans perceive and think of her and she often takes advantage of this, perhaps more than she should. However she also understands the dangers that come with deliberately intimidating humans. Only Cezine ever suspects that the beast actually takes care not to push her boundaries.

Despite her almost frightening level of intelligence, Kiskja is essentially a wild animal, complete with wild animal instincts and impulses. Extreme stress or other high emotions always run the risk of reverting her to her baser instincts, and no one, not even Cezine, is safe when Kiskja is reduced to a snarling brute. For the most part though, this happens rarely; usually when her animal instincts are closest to the surface is when she hunts, and she is often far from any sort of human establishment in these instances.

Anything else?
This was supposed to be short! D: