Appearance

Javor Thorhamarr is relatively tall, standing approximately six feet. He is also quite lean and agile, adept at slipping through narrow gaps in just about anything. As far as physical strength goes, he is not exceptionally strong by any means, but he's certainly no weakling!

At a glance, you'd probably call his mid-length hair black, but a closer inspection would reveal it to actually be a very dark brown. It never sits where it should; even a slicking with bear grease does little to corral the perpetually tousled, wind-blown locks.

His almost-princely face does bear a beard and mustache, though the length of these generally less-than-perfectly-tidy adornments is nothing noteworthy. His eyes, a piercing steel-blue, burn with an icy flame when he is angered.

His preferred dress is leggings of brown or some other earth tone, and a loose-fitting, forest-green outer tunic and leather girdle. Under this, he frequently wears chainmail, especially when going into battle. In such cases, he also often wears a somewhat-crude helm he forged himself, though he prefers to leave his hair free to the wind. He always carries at least two throwing knives with him, and usually wears a sword, although he has been seen carrying a bow instead.

Personality

Javor Thorhamarr is a rather quiet young man, most comfortable alone with his dragon. However, he willingly works alongside others, and when the situation demands it, doesn't hesitate to take command. He can be quite stubborn; most of the time, if he decides to do something, he will do it. There is not much that can change his mind once it is made up. That said, though, he is very logic-driven, so if one can logically explain why he should pursue a different course of action, he may reconsider. But he also has a very short temper, so it can be difficult to reason with him. When he butts heads with his friends, he'll usually fly off with his dragon and spend an hour or two cooling off and considering their points.

He is very sensitive and caring, but he is also shy, so few people other than his dragon usually see this side of his personality. He does not enjoy war, but will fight to the end for those he cares about. In battle, he is quick and silent, not wasting time and concentration on reflecting the insults thrown with his adversary's slashes. Unfortunately, this means he also sometimes misses instructions from his teammates in the heat of the fight. While he can think carefully and tactically, and is actually rather good at it, he is also extremely impetuous, liable to charge headfirst into most situations without thinking things through, so much of the time he doesn't.

Javor holds a deep love for nature. When no other matters press for attention, he is usually wandering the forests with his dragon or exploring the world on dragonback. He has much survival knowledge, and is quite resourceful. He is also quite creative, and enjoys a good challenge, such as solving an intriguing problem.

History

Family Tree
-Unknown father, probably deceased
-Unknown mother, probably deceased
-Unnamed adoptive father
-Unnamed adoptive mother
-Unnamed adoptive elder sister, probably deceased

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Javor's history remains largely a mystery. Indeed, even his original name is unknown! He and his dragon were first discovered on Dragon's Edge by a patrol about half a year after the dragons returned to New Berk. When asked how he came to be there, a strange look, hunted and sad, came into his face. Finally, he simply replied, "W-we fled." No one could elicit any further backstory from him, try as they might. Sensing that these people were making him uncomfortable, Javor's dragon roared at them, picked him up, and flew off to another part of the island.
The patrol finished their circuit, returned to New Berk, and made their report to the chief. Hiccup and Astrid decided to try tracking him down when time permitted, and several days later, departed New Berk for Outpost Island. Upon arrival, Stormfly was easily able to find their scent, and the chief and chieftess soon discovered the youth and his dragon hunting.
The latter detected the newcomers first. He nudged Javor and rumbled to get his attention, then looked over at the two dragon riders. His rider followed his gaze, and started to his feet. He recognized the man at once by the sleek, black dragon he rode. The legends of the unlikely Dragon King were true! Javor didn't know what to say. Finally, he managed a breathless "H-Hiccup? Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third? Dragon King of the Isle of Berk?"
Hiccup looked a little awkward, but confirmed this, and asked the viking his name. He was silent for a time, then with a touch of bitterness responded, "Javor. Javor Thorhamarr. A meaningless name befitting of a meaningless person." He would not give any explanation of this statement, and Hiccup was unable to learn anything more about the mysterious rider's past. That is, until he asked him about how he came to find his dragon.
A tender expression then replaced the guarded one, and he began to speak in a soft, quiet voice, gently smiling at his friend and running his fingers along the familiar curve of the scaled neck.
"It was my eighth winter since they took me in. I had left the village and was exploring the forest when the storm struck. I couldn't see five paces ahead of me. I knew I had to get back, or else freeze to death. I wandered for what felt like hours, hopelessly lost.
"Eventually, I just collapsed, strength spent, and committed myself to the will of the gods. Odin Allfather must have seen fit to spare my life, for I soon saw a distant glow of fire through the blowing snow. Thinking it was a rescue party carrying torches, I put all the little strength I could muster into a wordless cry. The glow came closer, and I finally saw that it was not a rescue party, but a flaming dragon. However, I didn't really care. And if it wanted to eat me, there wasn't anything I could do about it anyway.
"So he came to me, and to my dim half-surprise, gently plucked me out of the snow and wrapped himself around me. I was fully encased in a living tent, warm and dark. At first it felt like my whole body was burning in the fires of Muspelheim, but I was so exhausted nothing mattered. Before long, I fell asleep. I don't know how long we stayed like that, but by the time I awoke, I was warm through, and completely dry.
"When he felt me moving around, he released me after making sure I was okay. The storm had stopped; it was a clear, cold morning, and I was easily able to find my way back to the village. He escorted me all the way, gave me a little reassuring lick, then turned and flew off. I'll never know what he saw in me, nor understand why he chose to save me that day... but I owe him my life, and I couldn't be happier about it. We met again often, and soon wouldn't leave each other for anything. It's like... I don't know, like he's a... a piece of me. A piece I... had never known I had."
Hiccup nodded; he knew that feeling well. He excused himself and Astrid, consulted with her for a moment, then invited Javor to come with them back to New Berk "just for a visit". The young man looked a bit uneasy, but after some private consultation of his own with his dragon, returned and agreed. So the six took to the sky.
Despite his initial skepticism, Javor found he enjoyed life on New Berk. Yes, there were a lot of people, but there was also a lot of wilderness where he and his dragon could be alone and relax when the flurry of village activity became too much. Thus, their "visit" became weeks, then months, and they have grown to almost consider New Berk their home.

Appearance

Firelash gets his name from his long, whiplike tail, and his pattern and colors, which look strikingly like a nighttime wildfire, albeit more red-orange than yellow. He is a little larger than Hookfang, standing approximately 7-1/2 feet tall at his hips when in the prowling posture. His underbelly is a yellow-cream, fading along the underside of his neck to the fiery red of his lower jaw. His horns and talons are a dark, silvery gray, mottled with duller gray and black. His glowing yellow-orange eyes have been aptly called "twin pools of liquid fire" by Javor. Like all Monstrous Nightmares, his powerful limbs, fore and hind, allow him sprint and climb with ease. He wears no saddle or strap of any kind.

Personality

The best short description of Firelash's personality would be "Fiercely loyal". No one messes with his rider and gets away without a taste of his ire. Among those close to them, this usually just amounts to narrowed eyes and a low, warning growl; but fire, teeth, talons, and destruction await those who are not regarded as friends.
He trusts Javor completely, except when he's thinking with his emotions instead of with his mind. In such cases, Firelash acts as the voice of reason, keeping his hatchling from doing something stupid until he can resume thinking rationally. That's not to say that he himself is never in need of a corrective hand, though! Quite the opposite, as he, like all Monstrous Nightmares (and other dragons, for that matter), has a certain amount of pride, and does not take kindly to those who disrespect that. He is also extremely territorial, especially toward others of his species. Indeed, during mating season, he becomes downright dangerous, to the point where he and Javor have to leave New Berk in order to prevent possible casualties.
At other times, though, he's far more reasonable, although he and other Monstrous Nightmares will often snap, and occasionally flame, at each other. However, when necessary, he will (begrudgingly) fly in formation and work with them.
Firelash cares deeply about his rider, viewing him as his own hatchling, and hates to see him sad, upset, or hurting in any way. He would willingly give his own wing if it would help Javor. He also has a deep sense of honor, and would lay down his life if necessary.