Biography
He wakes in a forest clearing, to the sun streaming in weakly through the shelter of leaves. He blinks twice, slowly, fighting for alertness and against the urge to give into the blackness around the edges of his mind that still beckons and teases him to surrender himself to it.
A dark mist seems to be clouding his thoughts, numbing his mind with the cloying, sickly sweetness. He struggles to stand, staggering as the cacophony of the world presses in on him, threatening to overwhelm him with its bright, sharp scents and jarringly dissonant sounds.
My name is Strike, of the pack...
He shakes his head, searching for answers in the depths of his mind. The brief flickers of insight fade away as quickly as minnows darting through a swift-flowing stream.
The realisation dawns on him at last, and his eyes widen with sudden horror.
Who am I?
Breeding Info
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Special Skills
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Spring 
Night Weather: 
Clear Moon: 
