(I use Drane, my signature dragon warrior, in so many rp's, that I figure he should have a little back-story of his own.
)
It was dusk. As the sun set over the small village of Draconia, and all of the inhabitants were settling down in cozy animal fur beds, one resident was wide awake. Drane, a young fifteen year old, sat on the roof of his wooden house. Draconia was a village of Draconians, a race of dragon-people. Drane was average height for his age, at six foot three inches. He had dark brown scaled skin that went with his dark brown mane of hair. He wore his usual attire, a pair of baggy black leather pants and an unbuttoned black leather jacket. As he watched the sun fade into a blast of colors, he sighed, thinking of his dad. "When will you return, father?" he whispered, remembering how his dad left for war, taking his prized katana with him. Drane sighed and jumped off the roof, his wings making him float down like a feather. He crept silently into the house, trying not to wake his brother, Refuge, or his mother, Andraya. As he curled up on his fur bed, he heard a grunt from his doorway, the same grunt he always got from his mother when she was annoyed.
A Dragon's Village (PM if you want to join)
