The Medical Staff (Jeremi)

I Know What it is to Suffer Red Mottle Female Firelizard Airmed

Red Mottles, whether it's firelizards or dragons, have a certain reputation for arrogance, temper, and pride among other sometimes dubious qualities. This firelizard doesn't shatter any of those views, though the question with her is one of chicken – or perhaps dragon – and egg.

She hatched among a clutch of seven other eggs, the sole red and also in what had to be a twist of the IF the runt of the clutch. From the moment she broke the shell she was cast in the light of her scale color. She was avoided because she was a red and 'would be aggressive, disagreeable.' Other faires shied away from her because she was red and 'would be selfish.' And as she grew, she was indeed aggressive, disagreeable and selfish, but was that because it was in her from the start or because no one said she could be otherwise, so why try?

The world may never know.

But regardless, she was every bit a red mottle firelizard as there ever was, bullying to take what she wanted and tolerating no insult against her, proving her value with fang and claw.

But then during a hard winter she fell terribly ill. Alone, she huddled in the lee of a large stone trying to keep warm and simply surviving this disease, but the odds were against her... until a kind heart picked her up and changed her fate, and her future. A healer found the firelizard and took her into their warm home, giving medicine and food and water and nursing her back to health day by day with surprising patience for their patient's temperament:

When she would snap - "Oh, yes! You have such wonderfully sharp teeth! Here's something for you to eat that's much tastier than my hand."

When she would claw - "So deadly! No prey escapes your claws, do they? I know your legs must hurt, though. Let me rub them so they feel better."

When she would singe and catch fire to things in protest - "So hot! That actually will help if you will aim your beautiful flame right there, please."

When she would refuse medicine and retreat from aid - "I understand that I'm not worthy to touch one so mighty as you. I hope you might consider permitting it, however, so I can help you feel as your old self again."

Never was anything forced, but bit by bit the healing was permitted and one warm spring day the healer pronounced her healed.... aside from her wings. The disease had carried with it a horrible side effect: it weakened the muscles that controlled her flight so that now while she can stiffen her wings for a solid glide true flight is lost to her forever.

The healer took her back to where she'd found her, for over that time there had been no Impression and she made every indication that she was a wild, free creature who would not remain in a house. It was only after the healer had vanished from sight that the red mottle wondered what their name even was.

She never found out, but that winter both taught her a lesson and changed her view in one way: she's still arrogant (to a degree; there's something about having to be hand-fed and sponge-bathed that destroyed a good amount of pride) and still has a temper that snaps with all the fire of a wild red dragon when it's roused. But when presented with someone ill, someone injured, someone in need, she showed a compassion, a gentleness, that surprises a lot of people. She learned everything she could about herbalism and medicine, and gives it freely to others without thought of repayment. Why?

Because healing to her is a power, a mighty one, that she can wield over her greatest foe, the one that nearly claimed her save for one person's act of kindness: Death. And with each croon and softly whirling eyes, each carefully applied poultice and spooned medicine, each adult given health and child comforted through illness, there is a simple, yet profound, message:

I know you hurt. I know you are weak. I understand, because I, too, have suffered, and I will take your suffering away.

To look at her the first thing that strikes most people is her size. Most Red Mottle firelizards touch the forty inch length mark, she lands much closer to the range of a blue pureblood, smaller by a large margin. Her hide is something you can't miss even if you try no matter how big of a crowd she's in, glimmering like a ruby, with almost gemstone-like bar-scales running down her spine and down her throat, along her belly, and to the tip of her tail where it forms a hard spade, useful for scooping and mixing when her paws won't suffice. Her horns are a bit stunted, far closer to for nubs that run two to a side along the top of her head, but she had no issue with using them to prod resisting patients (or Jeremi, or anyone that tries to hurt Jeremi thought she prefers her fiery breath for that) into compliance with their healer's orders.




Vessel for the Breath of Life Pureblood White Female Channah

In the past, white was a color that was synonymous with death. White dragons and firelizards rarely survived hatching, dying in the shell or shortly after. The introduction of the wild bloodlines into the mix gave some strength to the rank but still the Mottles had a greater chance than the Purebloods.

A hatchling from an egg warmed by a mother who was sickening, body not the right temperature to offer life? The odds were even slimmer.

Yet somehow, by a miracle, the will of the IF, or some benevolence of Aeon and the Veiled Shrine, the egg not only survived but had the fortune to hatch into your hands, Jeremi. A life newly given into the world, and into your keeping, with a powerful gift to return the kind fates favor:

Quite literally she carries the Breath of Life in her lungs.

Most Pureblood firelizards can only breath flame when they chew firestone, like their Dragon counterparts. She is the same in this regard, but she has another ability. When wounds are dire and time is running out, when the spectre of death looms overhead, she can breathe out a healing energy and close wounds. This is very taxing, and she can only do so once a day, perhaps twice if she dares, but in the right moments she can turn the tide when it matters most.

Perhaps in alignment with this gift she is an extraordinarily gentle creature. The suffering of others pains her on a personal level, and Jeremi can expect her to be frequently guiding him to those who are in need of his skills whether they are humanoid or creature. She has virtually no temper to speak of, more likely to plead with those who cross her with images and hurt emotions rather than screech and scratch to mend their ways. Being in Jeremi's arms is her ultimate safe place, her solace and her comfort from the world; physical affection is paramount to her well-being. The healer should get used to having a firelizard tail coiled around his neck whenever she can. She wears her heart on her proverbial sleeve as well as in her whirling eyes, so harshness is difficult for her. When truly feeling spiritually battered she'll always fly to her Bonded for comfort and reassurance.

Barely as long as Jeremi's forearm from nose to tailtip, she is smooth hide all over lacking any scales or horns. Her hide is pure, the color of unblemished snow or pearly moonlight and velvet soft to the touch, making her eyes more gem-like for their color.
Mutation: Arcane Script - Healing Breath