male, 18
A short-tempered man with black hair and amber eyes. Yvander is an excellent hunter, a daring leader backed up by a great deal of luck, but he's not one to take others into account when he's making decisions. Those with lesser abilities are lesser humans in his eyes.

2. Hatching
This year's Lantessama's holiday cavern was decorated lavishly again. The inside of the smaller one of the two hatching caverns in the middle mountain was plastered with ice. Snow crackled below people's feet and their breath made little clouds in the air. It didn't matter that a few winter season and a couple of assembled winter-type dragons were grumbling and sending out bad karma when the end result looked like this. It was snow!
Candidates and spectators filed in, as did the Laedrysses and a few other Lantessaman officials. When everyone was seated Lucas signaled for the lights to be dimmed and then the entire cave bathed in a faint icy blue sheen. As the temperature dropped, the eggs in the center of the cavern, buried in snow and ice, started to show signs of hatching.
The last two eggs hatched in close succession, sending small clouds of fine snow in the air. Two faint-coloured tails rose up from the snow, followed by heads, limbs, wings and body. Only when the two hatchlings were out of the snow did it become clear that they had a different coloir. The first, a male was completely grey, like the sky during a storm. The second, also male, though faded had a hide that shone blue, like a moonstone. That last one bonded first.
Yvander, the last remaining candidate looked at the last remaining hatchling, expecting the dragon to come find him. In stead the hatchling sat down and stared at him. Both of them persisted for a while, but finally Yvander's nerves caved,
"Aren't you going to pick me?"
"As long as both of us know you need me." the slate grey dragon replied.
Baffled Yvander tried to speak, but the hatchling interrupted him, "My name is Heunir Shtil, and we've made these people wait long enough. Let's eat."
Dazed, Yvander followed behind the last hatchling wondering if it had been such a good idea to come to Lantessama. maybe the South was cursed after all....

3. Adult
Heunir knew he was special. His bright hide illuminated the darkest night and though his grey feathers could be called dull, he preferred to refer to the colour as 'frosted silver'. 
Yvander watched as his dragon preened. He'd gotten used to taking his times. the traditional IceLander had never been one to groom. A man looked gruff and rough. But Heunir would maim him if he suggested going out without proper styling. Maybe his dragon was right, Yvander had gotten the occasional cat call since he'd been at Lantessama. Although the fact that women propositioned him felt weird. It was not the way he was used to.
"So? This is not IceLand." Heunir remarked.
"It sure isn't." Yvander said wistfully.
"We can go back." Heunir added.
"We can't..."
"Yes Tainted, cursed. I know." Heunir sighed.
One day he would break the hold of tradition his rider carried. But clearly Yvander needed some more time.
"How about humouring some of those ladies? I wouldn't mind a little escapade."
Yvander looked at his dragon and wondered where all the time had gone that had transformed the hatchling into a rowdy male. 

Yvander - Svyn - Saryn - Rygha - Sha'uny

Lantessama Isle.