Post by Deleted on Jun 11, 2012 3:05:50 GMT -5
VHALGAER
NAME. Vhalgaer.
NICKNAME(S). none.
AGE. three years.
SPECIES. Grey Wolf.
SUB-SPECIES. Mackenzie Valley Wolf.
GENDER. male.
HEIGHT. 35 inches.
WEIGHT. averages 140 pounds.
COAT. reddish brown.
EYE COLOUR. classic gold.
NOTABLE MARKINGS. Missing most of his right ear.
PHYSICAL. The Mackenzie Valley Wolf is described as being a hefty sub-species of the Grey wolf. They're known for deep chests, bulky shoulders, and giant skulls; Vhalgaer is no different. While a slow sprinter on flat ground, he is made for the thin air and steep slopes of high altitude. His head, compared to most other sub-species, is enormous, with wide thick jaws made for crunching the dense bones of elk and mountain rams, not the twigs of roe and white tail deer. His lungs are larger, housed in his broad chest, and each inhale takes in more oxygen so that he can keep climbing even as others falter. Clothing his powerful figure is a coat of cherrywood fur. Strawberry fawn colors his underbelly, with cream streaking the inside line of his legs, underside of his tail, and his jaw line. He has a thin streak of dark red starting around his belly button and leaking down to cover his genitals. Across his back and down his sides his color is caught between rust and drying blood, thickly peppered with dark chocolate (almost black) guard hairs. His forehead and the stubby bridge of his nose are a rich cinnamon that lightens to hazelnut on his upper cheeks and going up his ears. The tip of his left ear is tipped in black, with individual black hairs trickling down the back. His eyes are the color of dirty, unpolished gold.
Vhalgaer lacks any distinguishing markings. He did, however, lose half his right ear when he was two. The inner parts still work perfectly fine, but from a distance away he looks perpetually angry. He also has a number of small scars hidden beneath his thick fur impossible to see unless he's thoroughly drenched, which he never is.
FEARS. Complete silence. Being enslaved. Losing "everything". Being buried alive.
VICES. Short temper. Judgmental. Curious. Possessive.
STRENGTHS. Focused. Intelligent. Bold. Almost charismatic. Suspicious.
PET PEEVES. Weakness. Excessive movement. Vanity. Authority. Being hot. Religious fanatics.
LIKES. Hunting. Winter. Being the smartest guy in the room. Rarities/puzzles. Honor. Lies. Blood.
PERSONALITY. No one knows Vhalgaer's motives. He is noble as often as he's treacherous. His unpredictability can make him more dangerous than the cannibals that wear their vicious villainy on their sleeves. Occasionally you get a glimpse into the game he's playing: Chess to everyone else's Go Fish. More often than not he simply seems like the newest frenemy stabbing you in the back.
A few things about him are undeniable, no matter your opinion on what makes him tick. He strongly believes in every creature's self-preservation instinct. He believes pacifists will murder gleefully to save themselves. He believes that mothers will eat their children if they're starving. He believes no one wants to die and the only martyrs are the ones that others sacrifice. Everyone lies, and honor is honorable, but being honorable won't save anyone's life. He enjoys a complex, thoroughly thought out lie almost as much as he enjoys a puzzle or untangling an intellectual knot. Rare, unique, one-of-a-kind items thrill and delight him to his very core, people included. He hates being wrong and the worst offense you can offer him is not innocence but plain stupidity and shallowness. Vhalgaer hates people telling him what to do or how to do it. He can be as stubborn as a mule when it comes to resisting the commands of authority figures, although rarely because he wants to be authoritative himself. And lastly, what's his will always be his; to protect, to kill, to give away and take back. Once it belongs to him, it always belongs to him. And he really hates when others play with his toys.
Vhalgaer can, on occasion, be charismatic and charming. With an uncomfortable grin that shows a few too many teeth he can win over most. If only that were his tendency. More often than not he's blunt, sarcastic, rude, or downright cruel. People always say too much when they're too comfortable or too angry. However it's when he's being coldly polite that you need to get your ass out of dodge; it's like the tide retreating before the tsunami hits. Run.
And he'd never admit it, to anyone else or even possibly to himself, but he finds the ability to love freely, absolutely, and unconditionally, one of the greatest traits to possess. And one that he sadly lacks.
MOTHER. Ygritte, deceased.
FATHER. Mormok, unknown.
SIBLINGS. Calzarine, living. Nastria, living. Louvoise, deceased.
HISTORY. Mormok and Ygritte were yearlings during the desperate trek from the infested land. Ygritte had been born into one of the two packs that followed Numenor while Mormok was one of a few loners following the group from a distance. When Ygritte's mother died on the ocean bridge, she tried to continue dragging the body, falling farther and farther behind. Eventually, the loners tracking the large group caught up to her, including Mormok. He'd suffered his own losses while fleeing from the disease and was one of the few who didn't condemn her for dragging the dead bitch. It took the main group two days to reach Toren, but it took Ygritte four, finally letting her mother be washed away by the ocean and accepting help from Mormok. She barely survived. Two years later she gave birth to her first litter, three girls and a boy. They were a happy family that thrived, staying far away from the politics of the horses and other wolves.
Their litter grew up and as yearlings began to adventure out of their tiny corner of Toren. Their son, Elijah, accidently killed a horse and in turn was hunted down and killed for his crime. One of their daughters left with a male and was never seen again, but the other two returned with the disease. With Ygritte sobbing in her den, Mormok killed his children. When winter came he got Ygritte pregnant again, and she had five pups: three boys, one girl, and one half-formed dead thing. They named the girl Nastria, and the three boys were Calzarine, Vhalgaer, and Louvoise. Tempered by their first attempt, Mormok and Ygritte raised their second litter cautiously and coldly. Ygritte missed her daughters and was angry at the horses for the death of her son. Mormok was impatient and constantly on the verge of cruelty. He'd learned the first time that Toren was as heartless as the Disease, and he was determined to drill the lesson into his children. So the puppies clung to the warmth and kindness of each other, respecting their parents but never truly loving them.
They were all thick as thieves in the beginning, able to finish each others' sentences and dodge before the other pounced. Nothing could be done alone. It wasn't until their first hunt that they even began to realize that they were different from each other, rather than a single being in four wriggling bodies. Nastria could smell better than the other three, and Vhalgaer seemed to track his prey on gut feeling alone. Calzarine could read the animals and pick the easiest target and Louvoise had a crazed bloodlust that made him deaf and blind to anything but killing. It was what got him killed on their sixth or seventh hunt. They were chasing a doe and stumbled upon her buck. Louvoise was in his rage and leapt for her, impaling himself on the rack of the protecting male, deaf to the screams of his parents and siblings. So the four were down to three, and their grieving parents had lost another son.
Ygritte and Mormok kept their remaining children close, not allowing them to leave or wander as others their age often did. Instead they treated them as pups for another year, keeping them together as a pack. Occasionally a horse wandered through their make-shift home and Ygritte would force them into hiding. Nastria or Vhalgaer always managed to sneak out and speak with them, learning of what went on beyond their self-imposed exile. If another wolf wandered through, Mormok would take his sons to meet with them. They would talk, maybe hunt, but always the strangers left. Mormok made sure they left. Around the trio's second birthday Nastria had a third litter, three boys and three girls. They were all robust, strong, and white as sin. They also sent Mormok into a rage. If he hadn't bred with her, then how'd she popped out so many healthy, pale things?
At first he took to calling them the maggots, and refusing to feed Ygritte. His plan to starve her out of the den failed when his own children hunted and brought her food though. She kept them hidden longer than ordinary, fearing for their lives, and rightfully so. But eventually she had to let them leave. Mormok injured the first one to wander too far from Ygritte, breaking one of its back legs. From then on Ygritte kept herself between the pups and her mate. The trio was growing tired of their parents' war though. They brought their mother less food and restrained their father less often. Eventually they decided it was time to leave, and to let their unloving parents fight their own struggles.
On the night that they left, Ygritte tried to stop them. She followed as they slipped away, begging them mercy on behalf of their half-siblings. It was all the opening that Mormok needed. He crept in and killed three of the offending pups before Ygritte could hear their cries and return. She tried to fight him off, but was weak from hunger and slow from child-birth. Vhalgaer couldn't stand the sound of his mother's grief, but also couldn't slip away guiltlessly like his siblings. Instead he joined their fight, protecting his pathetic mother from his enraged father. It only lasted two minutes, but Vhalgaer lost half his right ear and dealt his father a devastating blow to his side and left foreleg. Then he banished his father from the area. Vhalgaer stayed long enough to make sure Mormok truly left, but it was also long enough to watch his mother die of the wounds she'd received while protecting her bastard litter. Only two maggots remained, starving without Ygritte's milk.
Vhalgaer slaughtered his half-siblings then followed his littermates out into the world. Although they traveled together, slowly they began to drift further and further apart. Vhalgaer and Calzarine began to fight constantly and Zar tried to force Nastria into picking a side, well, his side. Frustrated by their ploys, she finally sided with Vhalgaer and they tried to leave their brother behind. But Calzarine kept tracking them, having formed an unhealthy relationship or obsession with Nastria. They knew he was near, but didn't think he was dangerous, merely lonely. They thought nothing of separating, Nastria to nap and Vhalgaer to hunt. Until Calzarine attacked that is. Delusional, he'd come to the conclusion that Vhalgaer and Nastria had left him to start their own pack and to have pups, despite being siblings. Jealous, he stalked them and finding Nastria alone and asleep, tried to steal her away. She refused to go with him, and it was as she was resisting rape that Vhalgaer returned to chased his brother off. Vhalgaer warned him that if he came near Nastria again, they'd kill him. Just like their father, they never saw him again. Vhalgaer and Nastria separated a couple months ago on their third birthday.
NAME. Savage.
AGE. Twenty-one years.
EXPERIENCE. Eight years? Maybe nine? Haven't had to write a bio in forever though!
OTHER CHARACTERS. None, yet.
HOW’D YOU FIND US. An advertisement on another site.
PREFERED CONTACT METHOD. Just message me here
