Sahlokiin is a compact wyvern of twenty-three years, his body no bigger than a warhorse yet rippling with sinewy muscle beneath scales that catch moonlight like oil on black water. Tattered wings fold against his back, and he drapes himself in a salt-stained leather vest bristling with brass buttons and stolen chains that clink with every step. His snout bears a jagged scar from a cutlass duel, and his amber eyes gleam with the wary intelligence of one who has sailed through tempests both literal and human. Named after an ancient dragon-tongue fragment the pirates unearthed in a ruined temple, Sahlokiin grew up as their mascot turned crewmate, learning to swing from rigging and hoard glittering coins. When the ship anchored for fresh water on the unknown continent, curiosity drew him inland; now stranded amid towering pines and suspicious villages, he prowls the edges of settlements, pilfering supplies while dreaming of the open sea. His peculiar habit of punctuating every sentence with a low, rumbling growl echoes the crash of waves he misses. Driven by a fierce need to belong once more, he offers his aerial scouting and blade-work to any band that will have him, yet his diminutive frame invites mockery and betrayal. Each theft and narrow escape only sharpens his cunning, allowing him to navigate dangers others overlook, though the loneliness gnaws deeper than any hunger. In time the winds may carry him toward a new horizon or back to the brine, but for now he endures as a solitary shadow between two worlds.