Biography
I lay in deep in the soft new snow, wrapped in a blanket of cold. My paws were completely numb. Above me, a leaf-less willow tree whispered and sang. This lovely crooning reminded me of my mother. It was comforting. I was still a pup, just a twig of a creature, all joints and pointy features.
I didn't know where my family was. Maybe I didn't even care. I closed my eyes and turned my back on the world. It held nothing for me now.
It began to snow. I did not look up; I could feel the gentle flakes piling up on my back. To me, the seemed friendly and good-hearted. Had I been stronger I would have chased and played with them.
It was not my day to die. Strange, warm, pink paw-like things gripped me around the middle and lifted me into the air. The odd paws belonged to an even odder creature; it had no fur on it's broad face, except for around the chin, and was cloaked in some sort of... second skin?
It was my first encounter with Man.
He took me to his den (and what a strange den it was) and preceded to revive my small body. He was kind, or so I thought. I was scared. He did his best to try and calm me.
I was soon well again, and I lived with Man in his home for nearly three years. I don't think I was happy; a wolf in captivity always longs for the wondrous wild.
In those years I began to trust him. One fateful day, however, another Man came to mine's house; I did not know him and, therefore, he was dangerous. I attacked him. I have no doubt that that Man still has scars on his arm. It was bizarre, the way his skin felt in my teeth.
The strange Man somehow convinved my Man that I was a threat to all, and that I should be killed. Of course, I could not understand Him. I knew something was going to happen by the way he waved around his killing stick.
I knew that soon, if I stuck around, they would kill me.
The Man kept me tied up in the back with an old, thick rope. It took hours of gnawing at the binding for me to be able to free myself. My jaws had ached, and my gums were rubbed raw. I could hardly feel this through the sheer terror.
I bolted off into the night. Over those years I had grown large and muscled, a true full-grown wolf, and my legs kept me going for hours on end. I do not know how far I ran, but I never stopped. Not until the dawn.
I was alone. Utterly alone; a tamed wolf in the wilderness all by my lonesome. If Novie and Bydlo hadn't found me a few weeks later, half starved and half mad, I would not have survived.
And that is my story. I have lived a grand old life with the pack; they taught me what I should have learned as a youngster.
When I pass, the legacy will always live on.
Breeding Info
N/A
| Personality
Fierce.
Preferences
My mate died years ago.
Special Skills
Not much of anything, anymore. I am too old.
|
Winter Month: 2 
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