Post by Flax on Aug 1, 2008 17:35:14 GMT -5
Faer
the character
name: Faerflaxen
age: 2 years
gender: femme
pack: None. [for the moment]
rank: --
appearance: she looks small, but is actually at the top end of the average height for females. her muscles look mainly designed for running, but in fact, she would rather fight than flee in that sort of moment. because of her proportions, she looks smaller than her height actually is.breed, timber wolf and little of many other wolves
eyes, sandy brown
pelt, mixture of dusty browns, ranging from sand to mud, with slashes of sludge coloured grey. mainly browns with dark grey.
height,2.5 feet
weight, 86 lbs
other, both of her ears are chipped at the top, like two cut out triangles
personality:
So I’m solitary. I like to be on my own a lot, being with a few really good friends is much better than being with a load that really piss you off sometimes. I can look lonely, and I’m fine on my own, which is often where I stand.
But it doesn’t mean that I’m antisocial. Which no one really understands. I like to be with people, when they want me around. Negative vibes tend to follow me, and a strain of awkward silences, which is why I like my few good friends, who understand my contentedness for not saying anything. Which is why I don’t speak. It isn’t because I’m antisocial, it’s because I’m not very interesting and haven’t anything to talk about.
Being highly emotional. I look into things too deeply sometimes, thinking nearly everything has a meaning. The past flows through a sepia veil through my mind, which pains my heart. I try not to let my feelings show, but it really does not work. Crying comes naturally to me, through sadness or anger or any other emotion. When somebody shouts, I can’t help but to cry, especially if it is accusatory – but that’s probably because of my past. Though it may not be my fault, or the person is not shouting at me… this usually happens anyway.
I wouldn’t get on the wrong side of me I can be very vicious in my ways, and revenge is common in my thinking, though I cannot really carry it out. When I am angered, my speech becomes immaculate. Every word is sharp, and laced with poison. I am a very valuable friend to have, but you wouldn’t want me as your enemy. I am dangerously honest, and feel the need to say when something wrong is said. I will not hesitate to stop a situation going out of hand.
I forgive. I will always forgive someone for a wrong committed, especially if they are a good friend. I have a habit for taking back others who have been indescribably bad to me, for which no one else can see why. But the thing is…
I never forget. I will get my own back, in little ways. I will never forget a wrong done to me or others, and I will bring it up if anything happens again, and I will do something about it if it continues. Be careful, say the wrong thing til I snap, and you may lose me. I trust me, most of the time, I don’t want that.
history: It started when she was a pup. Born third in the family, alongside five other pups, it was obviously hard to get much attention from her parents, the Dekas of her birthpack, Kelenoa, plus the added complications of their parent’s duties. This, however did not bother Faer as much as it did some of the other pups. She would often sit by herself, and look up at the stars with wonder, happy to be on her own, though secretly, she longed for the company of other wolves. As a result of secluding herself most of the time, the moments she did spend with the rest of her pack gave them the impression that she was antisocial, which was far from true. They did not understand her humour, her opinions, or her hatred of conflict, of any kind. It did not help that to most, she was also considered a freak.
As a result of not having many friends in the pack, Faer liked to walk alone though the woods in which they travelled, sometimes accompanied by Rao, the closest of her siblings. Jidaera, however, was a different story. The pup, from a young age liked to spread vicious lies about her sister. Ra told lies so far that eventually, at the tender age of seven months, she was banished from the pack. Their mother and father were heatbroken, but rules were rules, and Faerflaxen was lucky that she was not killed on the spot. For the lie that Ra told, was in relation to the recent mauling of one of the Alpha’s newborns. Barely a couple of days old, seven month old Jidaera broke one of the oldest rules of Kenoa. She killed the pup. Simultaneously, she placed the blame whole heartedly onto Faerflax. Jidaera smiled maliciously as Faer was chased out of the packlands, a vicious ‘Ciao, babe!’ sung after her.
Faer ran until her legs gave out on her. Her hind quarters were bloodied and torn due to her former packmates driving her from her old land. Although she was less than half their size, they still bore no mercy upon the young wolf. She blinked once, twice, three times, legs shaking violently, then, collapsed.
As young Faer awoke. Sounds of another filled her chipped ears. A rich, male voice approached the blackness, the sort that usually runs a casino in Los Angeles, American, with a hint of Italian, maybe Latin American.
‘Hey – uh, wolf. What –eh-uh- happened? Yous ok?’As Faer opened her eyelids, a huge, furry grey form appeared, of what she had never seen before. The creature had a flatter face than a wolf, though still had a nose that classed as a muzzle, clawless feet, pointed ears with tufted tips, and a short tail. Faer’s maw dropped open. It was a lynx.
‘Eh, shut you muzzle, you’re catching flies in your mouth, huh?’
Faer’s maw clamped shut again, eyes still wide. The cat smiled, before carrying on.
‘Eh-uh, can you move? There’s-a-stream down-a-ways, where we can get you uh, cleaned up yeh?’
The young wolfess shakily stood, though, when she followed the feline down to the stream, she dragged her back feet a little. Shivering, she dipped her back end into the cool water. The lynx had gone. Looking around, she saw the cat walking back with some herbs. He put them down in front of her.
‘These’ll help the pain. Mix ‘em with yer saliva, that is to say, lick em in, your wounds… it’ll fix ‘em up in no time. I’ll be back in ten, yeh?’
He turned and began to walk away. Faer looked on at him, a slight frown upon her maw. They were meant to be mortal enemies, so why was he helping her? Turning with a smile, the cat turned.
‘By the ways-uh, the name’s Tonio.’
Faer spent a year with the lynx, Tonio. With her time, she learnt many things. She learnt how to hunt, how to scavenge, fight and about different plants which could help an animal if it was injured or ill. Her ways of fighting were more feline than wolf, as was some of her ways. Eventually, after a year of being with the lynx, she had to leave.
‘You gotta learn how to be a wolf, yeh?’
Tonio had said, in his strange voice. He had told her to look for a pack to be with, to learn how to be a wolf again. Painfully, she left her friend, never fully understanding why he had helped her in the beginning.
‘Cause I’m a good Samaritan, eh?’
That’s what he had said. She also wondered why most of his sentences ended in a question, but that did not matter so much. So now she wanders through the woods, often thinking back to the crime she had not committed. But that’s history.
lineage:
birthpack: Kelenoa
sire, Ferlaen
dam, Tyrmira
siblings,
Dae [Daeces] --- femme
Faerflaxen [Faer / Flax / Faerflax] --- femme
Ayrao [Rao] --- masc
Tundraneon [Tundra] --- masc
Naetyx [Nyx] --- masc
Jidaera [Ra] --- femmethe roleplayer
ooc name: flax
age: 16
gender: femme
roleplay level: semi lit +
