Mikal's dark red hair is kept closely cropped at the sides, the top short enough to be spiked up. It's an easy hairstyle to maintain as it requires little upkeep in the mornings. Slightly oversized ears that turn three shades of red when he's embarrassed stick out slightly from his head. His expression is youthful, for the lad can't be more than 12 turns, and his green eyes often turn darker with emotion. Often times his gaze looks sleepy as if just waking from a nap. One would say he's of average height for his age, perhaps a bit too skinny though his arms and legs show promise of muscle when he's older. He's got the build of a kid who plays hards.
He wears a light brown tunic, the long sleeves sporting thread in sea green to match his eyes. The right shoulder is a bit thicker to allow either his brown or green firelizard to perch. A tad too long for him the tunic will fall to his knees when not tucked into his pants. So the tunic is tucked into the dusty brown pants, belted at the waist with a black belt. To match the shirt the pants are edged in a deep green thread, it also sports several pockets. A black leather pouch ic clinched around his waist, often filled with little treats for his firelizards. He wears a single white cord along his left shoulder.
Born a little over 14 turns ago, Mikal's parents were weyrbrats, their parents weyrbrats and /their/ parents were a pair of riders within the Ista Weyr. Naturally Mikal never met his great-grandparents, Sonya and D'shire but he's heard the stories passed down several generations. They fought thread! Amazing. Mikal knows that he'll never see such a thing in his lifetime but he simply adores learning of the history of Threadfall and the dangers that lie within. Like his parents he grew up on the beaches of Ista Weyr. Along with all the other kids he explored, got into trouble and learned his lessons grudgingly. However he was often prone to fighting so he was fostered out at the age of 10 to Red Sands Hold. In the full turn he was there he did calm down a bit though he's still quite a fair wrestler. He still has a craving to learn history but he wants to do more now and seeks to find a crafthall to join. Eventually he joined the healer craft, working on his apprenticeship for roughly a year, maybe less when he was Searched for Fort's clutch. His lifemate wasn't there for him though so he packed back up and returned to Xanadu after realizing he was homesick for the southern contentent weyr. Throwing himself into his studies he was once more Searched and this time discovered a whole new love that he never thought possible. Thrilled to be in weyrling class with so many of his good friends, Muir was now Mur'dah, Marel, Kale was now Ka'el, Soriana and Idrissa. Best friends forever with Xeosoth he awaits lessons to discover what happens next!
Chiseled From Ice Blue Xeosoth
The breath of the snowy wastelands has chilled the cyan-black hide of this blue dragon, adding an iridescent glitter to the somber coloring underneath, the shimmer of crystalline frost gracing every inch of hide from nose to tailtip. The glacial shade of rounded head and blunt, sturdy headknobs, washed in the earthy shade of aqua, blends to sea ice across his muzzle darkening to a near-black at the tip. The muddy hue of his wingbones lighten towards the trailing sails; the wings when fully spread, flare to the translucency of sparkling snow falling through a pale winter sky. Patches of murky indigo mantle burly shoulders and neck, waves of briny marine sweep thick middle and hindquarters, the dusky liquid flowing down the length of a somewhat stubby tail. Dipped in midnight ocean his legs, though short, are compact and sturdy, ending in navy paws tipped with wickedly sharp onyx talons. Hints of bulky muscle ripple beneath his hide, hinting at the predatory strength ready to be released onto the world.