Biography
The little boy hid in the shadows of his tree trunk, his small figure pushed between a fluffy and smothering pelt and some rough bark. He peered through the small hole of the tree, trying to catch a glimpse of the beast that was slaughtering his kingdom.
He heard the agonizing cries and the distant thumps! as limp bodies fell to the ground. Tears pricked his doe eyes and he burrowed himself into the pungent pelt as he tried to rid himself from the heart wrenching cries that imploded the midnight air.
Cautiously he held his breath and counted to three, waiting for something to happen and tell him that this idea was absolutely ludicrous. But when nothing happened and silence filled his small, pointed ears he decided it was safe to come out. He pushed the rock aside, first glancing out one more time before removing his whole body from the cramped space.
Inhaling a ragged and uneasy breath, he made his way towards the den quietly.
Surely mother and father are alright, they're the best alphas de world has ever seen! He thought, the confidence that they were alive flooded him. He glanced around to see what was happening in the den.
That's when he saw it.
Blood splattered on the walls as if a wave of crimson liquid has been washed through the den. Corpses littered around the territory like rag dolls, each having a pool of blood around them. The young boy stifled a gag back and let his eyes wander in search for his parents but he did not have to look far.
The thin hairs that lined the back of his neck, as if a crown, became perpendicular. Dread filled his small body as his gaze landed upon the Alpha and Luna of the pack, his mother and father. His mother was huddled in the corner, cowered with tears streaming down her face. His father stood in front of her in his protective stance, growling defensively at the large brown wolf in front of them.
The boy sniffed the air, catching the scent of a strange wolf. A rogue, he identified.
The rogue then lunged at his father, snatching him by his tail. The boy turned his head, already foreshadowing the event that was going to unfold before his eyes. A sickening crack filled the midnight air then a heard cry from his father.
The wolf had bitten his tail right off.
The rogue was slowly narrowing down upon his mother now, trapping her in the corner. The boy quickly began to rush down the small slope, chocking upon the sobs that threatened to reveal themselves.
But he had caught the attention of the rogue and his mother.
The rogue made the murder simple, bring down his giant claws to the poor female. Her stomach split open and the giant gash let the boy catch the insides of his mother.
"Xavier," his mother's weak voice croaked. He turned to see her hunched figure as she leaned against the wall for support.
"Mother!" The boy cried, tears now becoming apparent on his fur. "Mother, who do I get? What do I do?" He asked as he watched as the bloodstained fur grew more moist by the second.
She laughed weakly, "You do not need to get anyone, this is how it was supposed to play out," she let out a wretched fought and a feeble smile, "your father and I love you, you know that right?"
He nodded but before he could say anything, her head fell limp to her side and the little life in her eyes had dispersed. The boy felt his body tremble in sadness, burrowing his head in the crook of her neck as he yearned for the mothers touch only she was able to offer. He let out a painful screech out, yelling for the packs doctor to run in and save her but no one did.
No one could.
Breeding Info
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| Personality
As young boy, Jett was an adorable happy young pup. Although there were hard times in his young years, his adventurous and playful spirit has kept him going. However, his childhood wasnÂÂ’t great forever.
At a very young age, his parents were killed by a rogue wolf. He saw them die right in front of his young youthful face. He has always been extremely aggressive around everyone since then.
At the first sense of danger, Jett is the first to encounter it and use brute force to get rid of it. Even when he encounters others whom he already knows, he is aggressive. He can be very cruel, a trait inherited by his experience to young violence. He always is vicious to those around him.
Although he was quite small as a pup, he grew stronger having to fend for himself. Therefore, he is very feared in his territory. Some of his "friends" have even given him the nickname "Alpha", because of his overwhelming presence.
Although, at sometimes Jett is a good male. Although highly demanding, he is quite intelligent. Being alone for many moons he had to learn to survive alone. No food on a silver platter. The only source of warmth was the forest surrounding him. He had to learn to adapt.
He has a very wide personality, only favored by some. Past experiences have caused him misfortune. He has changed ever since that day, and now will forever stay the same.
Preferences
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Special Skills
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Spring 
Day Weather: 
Flood
