Hi and welcome! You all know the drill, if you aren't Helderfontein or I please don't post!

Here's my characters description, you can post yours whenever you get time :)

Name: Sage

Gender: Male

Age: 17 years

Appearance: Messy black hair that falls over his eyes (he uses it to kinda hide behind), golden amber eyes, Very tall (5'10''), very tan skin since he lives out in the streets, lots of scars but the most obvious is one down his left eye, Very slim and light (About 160 pounds since food is a bit scarce), Although he's slim he's still muscular (more refined than bulky), gives off an air of power and/or menace, has a low voice that is quiet and scratchy, he wears tattered and thin clothes which are covered in mud, blood, and who knows what else, his clothes are worn as well because he is of a very low class so he wears pretty much the same thing all the time

Personality: Very mistrusting because of his backstory, would generally rather be alone than with humans, he comes across as cold/rude/uncaring, he's very blunt and a bit crude, he's very stubborn and an extremely good fighter, when fighting he just jumps in without thinking, very hot-headed with a bad temper, tries not to get too attached to anyone, but once he forms a relationship he is very loyal and protective, he has no qualms about killing anyone/anything

Weaknesses: Hot-headedness (he often gets hurt or in trouble because of it), he's very untrusting so he doesn't like to accept help, he gets flashbacks (mostly from his father, who he doesn't get along with) from his past which affects him greatly in a very negative way

Strengths: Hunting, fighting, very skilled in sneaking around, knows the streets and forests nearby well so he's great at hiding, very quick and agile, very strong

Other: He lives in the woods and streets and moves from place to place - he has no home other than the wild. His weapon is a small dagger he has with him at all times that he made himself. He is very patient when taming dragons, but because he mistrusts people, he tends to have no patience at all otherwise.

(nope, everything looks good. Do you want to start or should I?)

You start :)

(ok)

Sage was walking through the forest looking for game. His father was passed out on the couch as a result of too much drink, and Sage hoped to be away for a while. He didn't see much in the center of the forest, so he jogged down to the river bank and climbed a tree there. He waited until a deer came by to get a drink, and he threw his dagger, killing it. He breathed a sigh of relief he had found something today and began to clean it.

Madrigal flipped the hood of her cloak over her head, tucking stray wisps of hair behind her ears. She was walking the busy streets of the city centre, bored out of her mind. She slipped between people fluidly, melting against walls and into the shadows. The market was busy today, and there were more vendors here than usual.

Just as there were more people, so were there more guards. They walked in groups of three or four, keeping what they thought was a sharp eye out for thieves.

Madrigal stopped against a wall, on the corner of a narrow alley. She scanned the crowd; the vendors seemed to have switched places, the tailor wasn't in his usual spot, and nor was the little trinket store she loved. It took a few minutes with the crowd, but she spotted them both, only a couple of stores apart. This made her job easier. She flipped back her hood and pulled some hair out of her tight do, slouched her shoulders over and slipped into the slow movement of the crowd.

Sage finished cleaning the deer and stood up with a sigh. He grabbed the deer and dragged it back to the cabin he lived in. His father was awake and stumbling around by then, and started yelling as soon as Sage walked into the house. Sage ignored his father and put the deer meat over the fire and then left again, closing the door quickly. He heard the bottle break against the other side of the door and let out a sigh of relief as he walked away. He had to go to town, which he hated, but they needed supplies, and without money he had to steal what they needed. He rubbed his knuckles over the brand that his father had carved into his chest, under his collar bone, to show their rank. Normally, parents would pay someone to brand their kids with their rank so it wouldn't hurt or anything, but since they were the lowest rank and had no money, his father had used a knife and done it himself. Sage ducked his head so his hair covered his face and eyes and slipped between shops, deftly stealing what he needed.

Keeping her eyes cast to the floor, Madrigal moved with the flow of people, timing her arrival to each stall at the moment the vendor was turned away. She brushed by the stall, her hand, low by her hip and half hidden under the cloak. She took something here, something there- never too much from the same vendor, and never the same vendor two times in a row. It had been weeks since she took from the trinket lady, and even longer since she'd snagged a good piece of clothing from the tailor.

Madrigal swiped a small wooden carving of a dragon, the first thing that had caught her attention. It was slightly smaller than her palm, and ring-shaped, with the dragon's head meeting its tail. She didn't know why she was drawn to it, she just was.

At the tailor's stall, little outfits were rolled together in neat, small parcels, tied together with string. The man had always arranged his clothes by size, small to large, from left to right. Individual pieces of clothing, such as shirts and pants were hung. Madrigal assumed that today would be the same as all other days, and swiped a small parcel from the left side of the table just as the man turned to unhook a tunic from a rack on the roof. She'd just slipped it under her cloak, only a few yards from the tailor, when her shoulder slammed into another body, her hands fumbling for to keep hold of the small package.

Sage jerked back in surprise when he collided with the girl, not used to physical contact other than being hit by his father. Once he calmed down a split second layer he grabbed the package and steadied the girl before the tailor turned around and noticed her. He knew what stealing looked like, but he also knew what a higher ranked person looked like, and wondered why someone of a high rank would be stealing. He shook off the thought and strode past her without a word, plucking the tailor's apple from a pocket of his apron as he went.