Name: Artair<br/>Gender: Male<br/>Dragon/survivor/other: Survivor<br/>Pred/prey: Prey<br/>Race: Anthro fox<br/>Digestion/not: He won't be happy about it... But, if you bring him back...<br/>Can reform self/can't reform self but wants to/can't reform self and doesn't want to: Can't reform self but wants to<br/>Height: two inches<br/>Description: A male anthro fox in his twenties who worked as an engineer and electrician in a laboratory somewhere secluded. One day, he was randomly selected from the staff as a test subject for a new shrinking device, which minimised his body down to two inches. He was then caged up and put on a plane to be flown away to another lab elsewhere for extensive testing, but one of the engines failed (ironically, he had been working on fixing the problem before he was called away for the experiment) and the plane crashed on the island. He was thrown from his cage and made a speedy escape, and all the others who had crashed with him had either died or been eaten within a few hours. Before this, he was already a vorephile, browsing websites in his spare time, but never actively taking a part in it. This fetish became his downfall when he was attacked by some of the less intelligent wildlife. He escaped, but with dire wounds...<br/>_________________________________________________________________<br/><br/>Artair stumbles along, his eyes half-closed from exhaustion and blood loss. His breathing is rapid and ragged, as he had just finished running. He pauses to pluck a leaf larger (but thankfully lighter) than he is, and tear from it a makeshift bandage to stem the bleeding from his shoulder, wrapping it all the way around and holding it in place. The arm beneath the shoulder was no longer present. He continues his stumbling journey, eventually happening to find a cave. It was huge, especially so at his size, although it will do. He walks inside the entrance and slumps against the wall, breathing a pained sigh of semi-relief.<br/><br/>Blizzard thoughtfully retracts his stomach acids, preventing them from burning any more. He then takes a deep swig of water from a spring pool just outside his cave, the liquid rushing down over No'Coure and washing the acids from his body. He doesn't say anything, though.<br/><br/>Muir nods at Whitereaver, still cautious around the big dragon. "So... What now?" he asks.