Darkwing

Now, childing, I have told my dream to thee. See if thou canst interpret it to me, or to thyself or neighbor. But take heed of misinterpreting; for that, instead of doing good, thou will but thyself abuse by misinterpreting evil issues.

Darkwing never seems to lose the beauty of youth, yet he is nearly an elder. His whole bearing is aloft... almost mystical in its dignity. Long hair of raven black runs past his waist, so black it has blue highlights in it. His piercing eyes are a rare silvery gray that looks bizarre, yet strangely mysterious on a face so perfectly unmarred. He seems almost a statue, but one who's smile is warm and holds a great depth of wisdom and knowledge.

The flamboyantly elaborate clothes he wears are tasteful blends of softly tanned leathers and carefully woven cloth, all dyed in colors of black, purple, and azure blue. The tunic-like shirt with its flowing sleeves has a stylish pads built into the shoulders and worn wide open at the front in a V cut that runs nearly to the pants; revealing a tightly muscled form underneath. The back of the tunic is a cross pattern that allows for his wings, strong ones the same pure blue/black color as his hair, to not be hindered. The pants look almost a part of the top and hug his legs, while a silver flute hangs from its woven belt. He wears a necklace with a single, fire opal and small pair of leather shoes.

Darkwing's silver eyes seem to stare through you and he looks frozen in time. At last, he stirs and his face slowly breaks into a glowing smile. With a gentlemanly nod, he greets you as a friend.

First born son of Firewing and SkyLight, doomed or blessed no one is exactly certain. Darkwing was born on a new moon night where the light of the stars was the only guidance. And indeed he seemed as the night for he was born with wings and hair perfect ebony color. He was a solemn fledgling, handsome as they come, but his quiet eyes showed that he had far more of the sense of future than ever his parents did. When his bond bird, Ciri, died during a storm, he mourned but it wasn't a surprise to him.

His powers are random and uncertain as ever the future may be and this made him a more thoughtful and contemplative youth. He never paid much attention to the calls of the young females about him, and he never let himself go beyond the occasional mate. He always held a detached outlook on life, for his frequent dreams would show him visions that he really wasn't ready to see. He was there at his sister, Skyfire's, birth and saw in her all the fire he refused. He knew far ahead of time about the possibility of his mother's eventual death. Seeing the scar upon his family and holding this dark secret within his soul... he had known, and never spoken. He never forgave himself for it and vowed to not let it happen again.

For this he became the tribal Loremaster, diving within the tales of its history and holding it to memory. He was the interpreter of dreams and a seer who watched everything with a calm detachment. Darkwing took over as protector and keeper of his fiesty younger sister when grief finally killed the spark in their father. And it took ultimate control on his part not to let loose a wrath on Silverstar for what he did to her. Knowing all that he does is a dangerous thing, it had driven some to maddness. But he has devoted his life to the well-being of the Flyer tribe and sometimes, knowing too much... is just enough.