Name: Hausho Eyre Bond: Tynov Landwerlen Age: 24 Rank: N/A Sex: Male Species: Human Height: 6'1" Hair: Brown Eyes: Hazel Place of Birth: Old Earth Current Residence: Sitheil Tirean, Splintyr Sector Personality/History: Hausho came to Sitheil Tirean 6 years ago, when he was barely 18. He is an upstanding, hardworking young man who works in the kitchens as an assistant to the head cook, Grank. He's fairly quiet, and doesn't display many extremes of emotion. He's fairly well-built and athletic, enjoying exercise and hiking. Overall, he's fairly plain, but makes up for it with a yard of heart and determination. Hausho's Story: Hausho stretched, waking slowly. His personal chamber, little more than a natural pocket eroded into the caves, was dark. His position within the unofficial ranks of Sitheil Tirean did not afford him one of the larger caves with vents cut to the mountain's surface, allowing in outside light and air. He had two braziers--one magical, one normal--but he had left both unlit when he had gone to bed. He stood up, his eyes already getting used to the darkness. His internal clock had long since adjusted to waking and sleeping in darkness, without any external indicators of dawn. He dressed in his simple woven clothing and opened the windowed door that led out of his cavelet. His days were a steady, smooth routine, but he didn't mind the monotony. He passed a young Schattarnek in the hall, trotting with wings folded neatly and a package in its mouth, and he nodded hello to it. He, like pretty much every other fully-human resident of the caves, longed for the opportunity to bond with a dragon. But there had been no new Schattarnek eggs forthcoming for quite a while… there were still some in stasis, but Lakota refused to hatch them yet, and the two fertile females hadn't flown yet. Not that I'd want one of Dhur-dhur's offspring to bond with me, he thought with a slightly guilty grimace. The poor, multicolored-neon Schattarnek female was of decidedly below average intelligence. She was nice enough, but tended to drool. The other female, Espy-iral, was a normal dragon, if a bit angsty at times. But neither she nor Dhur-dhur had gathered enough males to hold a proper flight yet, so it looked like Hausho was out of luck for a dragon for quite some time. Perhaps even a year. In a year, he'd be twenty-five. Old, he joked to himself. He strode into the large, well-vented cave that housed the kitchen. It was positively huge, as there were several hundred dragons living in Sitheil Tirean, along with the humans, humanoids, and other sentient beings. There were several conventional stoves and ovens which ran on wood-burning power, and quite a few more that ran on some sort of combination of magic and electricity. Hausho wasn't sure how they functioned, exactly; maintaining them wasn't his job. Grank was already present, hunching over one of the large laminated-wood tables in the center of the room. He was one of the anthropomorphic animals that seemed to be quite prevalent in Sitheil Tirean. He was some sort of hybrid, with canine facial features, a long tail, and a downright weird fur pattern. When Hausho first came to Sitheil Tirean, he had long envisioned finding those long, russet-and-gray hairs in every meal he ate. But either Grank never shed, or he was so scrupulously clean that none of his fur ever got into the food. Although most of the anthros never wore clothes, generally having long fur that covered any anatomical areas that humans might be embarrassed to see, today Grank was wearing a long white apron with a plethora of pockets on the front. "Hey, Grank," Hausho said, pausing near the wall pegs and pulling his own less-pocketed apron down and tying it over his clothes. "What're we cooking up today?" "Me?" Grank asked, pointing to his chest with the large butcher knife he held in one hand. "Mince pies and meat pies and such." Hausho approached the table. Grank was in the process of chopping up what looked like a large haunch of meat. He wasn't sure what kind. Mutton, perhaps? Grank was skilled enough to know a raw meat on sight and smell, but Hausho didn't have that kind of training. Or that kind of nose, for that matter. "You, however," Grank said, bringing the butcher knife down onto a particularly tough chunk of gristle, "are not cooking anything." "I don't understand," Hausho said carefully. "Have I done something wrong? Are you angry? Upset?" "Nothing, and no and no," Grank said. He separated some long strips of the meat out to one side and turned away, striding over to a cabinet full of waxed containers. He chose one and returned to the table. "Grank," Hausho said, "tell me! Is Lakota upset? Is she going to send me back to Earth?" "No," the anthro growled. "She says you make the best ham sandwich she's ever had. She'll never make you go back. She's said, however, it's time for you to get a dragon." He began to pack some of the strips of meat into the waxed container. Hausho blinked. He really couldn't believe it--he'd longed for a dragon-bond ever since he'd Gated to Sitheil Tirean, six years ago. "What kind? Where? How? When?" He was nearly bouncing up and down like a small child in his excitement. "I don't know, don't know, don't know," Grank said, handing the sealed box to the young human. "Except the when, I do know that. Now. You'd better get your tailless butt over to the main chamber. Kilara and Lakota are waiting for you. Those scraps are for the dragon. Not you," the hybrid added with a wolfish smile. "Thank you," Hausho managed, taking the box from his boss. A dragon! The truest friend of his entire life, a noble creature he would care for and share life with. It was all he could do not to run through the corridors. He wasn't sure what he or she would look like, but one thing was for sure: their hearts would be the same. Home | Adopt/Sands | Growth | Appearance | Culture | Breeding | Forum | FAQ Residents | Abandoned | Guardians | World of Splintyr | Store | Contact Lakota Splintyr is a member of the Nexus / Kshau Protectorate All characters, images, and text, including Schattarneki and Splintyr are the property of and are copyrighted to Crystal Carlson and DragonByte Studios © 1998-2005. All rights reserved. ...