Biography
It was a fateful night. Thunder boomed, lightning flashed across the sky, and the trees swayed against the sharp wind. It was like Heaven decided to unleash it's terrible wraith on Earth.
The aged shewolf layed down, surrounded by the elders of the Pack. Cries of agony echoed from the cave, from the mother. Seconds passed, minutes went by, even countless hours maybe, until silence finally rang out, like the chime of a clock hitting midnight. The wind slowed. The rain begun getting softer and the clouds separated, leaving behind a view of a Blood Moon.
It wasn't long before more cries began, the ones of sorrow. The Pack had not only lost the Alpha Female that night, but the whole litter too. Exept for one. A runt of a white pup, eyes as red as blood, and claws as sharp and as strong as steel. They called her Xanthos, after the mythological flesh-eating horse of Diomedes, and decided on a whim to let her live.
Dispite her strangly beautiful appearence, Xanthos was always the black sheep of the Pack. The different one, the abnormal one, the dangerous one. She was ruthless and mean, with a love for hurting things. The Elders tried teaching her the ways of being kind, but they quickly gave up. They couldn't stop her unearthly cruel personality. It got to the point when no one ever wanted to play or socialize with her; They called her a lost cause - an outcast, meant to be forgotten.
Xanthos was locked away when she came of age, in a cage of woven wolfbane. She fell sick and weak, unable to fight back, although her warrior's heart kept her strong. She stayed there for many years, she lost count of how many days passed, how many moons went by. She eventually lost her will to live and her courage faded away. She howled once, and closed her eyes one last time - her heart faltering to a stop.
It wasn't long before a voice awakened her. It was all crackled and sharp, meant to install fear into those who heard it. But not her - she quite welcomed it. She opened her eyes slowly, and stared at the figure in front of her. A human she guessed, even though she had only heard stories. It was tall and shrouded behind a ripped, black cloak. It had no skin, only aged bones. It's eyes glowed red, like hers, as it extended a bony hand.
"Xanthos" the Grim Reaper whispered. She nodded, greeting Death. "Care to have revenge?" He asked, a venomous smile on his face.
Her eyes glittered. "Yes, my lord" she said with pride, as his fingertip touched the tip of her nose. Everything went black, she couldn't see a thing. Yet, the pounding of her heartbeat thundered in her sensitive ears. She felt more alive then ever.
"Then you shall have it".
Breeding Info
N/A
| Personality
- X A N T H O S -
Named after one of the four mares of Diomedes, whom were known to be insane, flesh-eating and ruthless in battle.
[-] Xanthos
[-] 302 Year Old
[-] Female
[-] Asexual
[-] Cunning
[-] Trickster
[-] Liar
[-] Sorrowful
[-] Bipolar
[-] Soft-Hearted
[-] Heliophobia
Preferences
She enjoys inflicting pain on others, both mentally and physically. After being abused for many years, she keeps her heart closed, and her mind shut out to everyone. She is secretive, but loud. Xanthos keeps to herself. She holds hatred in her heart, and extremely dislikes romance of any kind. In fact, she seeks to destroy it.
Her favourite song is 'Everything Black' by Unlike Pluto
Black bird, black moon, black sky, black light
Black, everything black
Black heart, black keys, black diamonds
Blackout, black, everything black
Black, everything, everything
All black, everything, everything
All black, everything, everything
All black, everything, everything black
Special Skills
[-] She has the Touch of Death
Gifted to her by Death himself, Xanthos has the ability to kill or seriously hurt a animal or human by touch. Although, excessive use of the power makes her lose her eye-sight and causes extreme fatigue. It only works if she makes it, therefore she can't hurt anyone unless she directly thinks it.
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Spring 
Night Weather: 
Flood Moon: 
