Username:
Ms. Bennington
Name:
Phyre
Nickname:
None
Age:
Four Years
Gender:
Female
Description:
Her fur is thick, partway between coarse and silky, and a jet black that surpassed a starless, moonless midnight. There is no other color visible on her body apart from her eyes, with are a deep topaz-yellow. These eyes change color to an icy, vibrant blue when she is having one of her visions.
Her physical build is that of a runner and hunter, long and slender, toned but not overly-muscled legs, and a slender head with a long muzzle that comes to a relatively sharp point. Overall, a good-looking wolf, nearly exactly like the picture at the top.
History:
Raquel's history has been kept a secret close to her heart since her first year mark, and she still will not tell a living soul. But since this is her form and not a fellow wolf, I will write it out. ^.^
Phyre had a horrid experience with wolves since she was a pup. Her first few months were normal for a newborn, but as soon as she was weaned and her mother went out to hunt, her mother and father were both shot and killed by poachers. When father and mother never returned, Phyre and her siblings grew increasingly hungry and anxious, resulting in high stress and tension in the barely-able-to-walk pups. Eventually, with nothing else possible as an alternative, they began to fight amongst themselves, driven by ferocious hunger and the need to survive the winter.
Needless to say, the two young female runts were eaten first. Phyre remembers and cringes from to this day the thought of eating her own sibling, of whom she had fondly played with before their parents were killed. With no other choice, they ate the now-dead cubs, devouring with a ferocity coming only from starvation.
But it wasn't long after, perhaps a day or so, that the fighting began again. This time one of her brothers were killed, leaving only three wolves left; Phyre and her two brothers. After feeding from the larger pup, now that they had all grown a bit, the fighting was put off for a good week or so. During this time, Phyre had her first spat of a vision; a picture of her being a mangled, bloody mess of black fur ripped across the ground, her two brothers feeding from her remains. At the sight of what wasn't yet visible, she paniced, fleeing the den that they hadn't yet left as quickly as she could, never sparing her brothers a second glance. She still has no idea what happened to them, has had no visions or signs of what occured in their lives...and nor does she necessarily want to.
After running away from the last family she had left, her life took a turn for the worse. She came close to death more than once, sometimes twice within the same day. She nearly died of starvation by the fourth week, and then luckily stumbled upon a half-eaten elk carcass, reeking with the scent of Grizzly bear. Somehow knowing that the bear would soon return to consume the rest of its meal, she quickly devoured as much as she could, eating a good fourth of what was left before running again, farther and farther away from all she had known.
She slowly began to learn how to hunt, teaching herself the fine points, gaining her own technique borne of her own common sense. She learned how to determine the weak from the strong in a herd of deer, to distinguish the old and sick from the old and healthy, the young and well-protected from the young and rejected. Soon she was a fine young wolf, strong and hardy, able to take down a medium-sized old stag alone with a great amount of effort. She lived alone, an outcast, never seeking the companionship of another wolf, never looking for a pack; she was deathly terrified of both. After her exprience, who wouldn't be? The only time she'd spent with her own species was a time of terror and violence; she had no wish to be with wolves again.
And on the mark of her first full year, she encountered her first wolf after her siblings. This one was another female, alone like she, but weak and hungry-looking. Phyre was immediately on guard, hackles raised, a snarl on her snout, crinkling the skin beneath her eyes with its intensity. The other female seemed shocked; wasn't Phyre supposed to offer companionship, to help eachother hunt? When the stranger wolf stepped forward, head lowered, belly close to the ground and ears back in submission, Phyre leapt, acting on her hysterical instincts that were screaming at her to kill this creature before it could kill her.
And when everything was finished, the stranger lay in a mangled, shredded form on the ground, ripped by Phyre's teeth and claws. And as Phyre looked down upon the dead wolf, a realization struck her that staggered her entire world; this was the event from her vision. This was the wolf with black fur that had been ripped to shreds. This was the wolf that was going to be eaten by her brothers. Which meant one thing; her brothers were following her.
After this event, she has never stayed in one place for any length of time at all, for any reason, and has constantly been on the move for the past two years of her life. She hasn't had a single vision since her first, but she knows that somehow she still has the ability; she feels it, in a way.
But for some reason, the pack of Servatis struck her as different, struck her as home. She, despite everything she had known, learned to live with wolves again, learned to cope with them, to treat them as allies instead of enemies.
Personality:
Phyre is a wolf that avoids contact with others if possible. Even though she has learned how to trust again, this trust has a boundary, and she'll never cross it without help. She never speaks unless necessary, and may seem to have a cold, uncaring disposition; this she does not. She truly cares about her pack, about the wolves in it; without them, she would be nothing more than the schizophrenic wolf she had been for the previous two years. She is truly thankful that Servatis taught her to trust and live without fear again, but she has not learned enough to discover how to say it.
She is a very somber creature, never finding much amusement in anything if there's a serious matter at hand, and hardly ever laughing or smiling when there isn't. It's not that she doesn't have a sense of humor; it simply takes something quite hilarious to bring out the laughter from her. She takes most things pretty seriously, as would anyone with a history similar to hers; she is permanently scarred by it, and has healed and coped in her own way.
She takes any visions she gets deathly serious, and though they are normally no more than fifteen seconds long, they tell her a great deal; it's up to her to interpret it, and since her first vision, she is extremely careful about this, analyzing it every possible way before finally deciding what it most likely means.
Her visions are very few and far between, maybe, maybe once every two months. She dreads the coming of each one, because they are almost always visions of bad things, never good. Once she saw a stampeding herd of elk...a week later, she witnessed a mountain lion being trampled to death by the very same herd. She never takes visions of prey as good things, always assuming that there's a catch to it. This has led her to be cautious and thought-out about everything, creating a strategical awareness that has only enhanced her intelligence.
The rest of her mind and memories are consumed of herbs and the secrets of the forest; she learned much during her two years alone and scared. Everytime she got sick, she would find a new plant that would cure her, and if she studied it more, she would find that it did more than cure just that illness; sometimes it enhanced senses, or cured different things. She knows about as much about foliage and herbs as any wolf can know, and even more about things in the forest that may look, smell, seem edible, but will kill you the second you taste it. And amazingly, she has remembered everything she learned; from the details of what the plant looked like, to what it did, to exactly where it grew.
Phyre has no interest whatsoever in the male gender of wolves, and is honestly convinced that she never will. She is too consumed in her grim history, her thoughts, and her ever-increasing studies that she considers romance to be obsolete and worthless. But, there is a first time for everything, and one could always be proved wrong...
Another factor for her possibly finding a mate would be her trust issue with most wolves, especially males; the only one who truly knows her history is the Alpha, and only then because she felt she had to tell him. She would be paranoid for her life for quite a while into the relationship, and then would never speak a word of truth to him about her past, leading to, of course, issues in that realm as well. She had decided long ago that a mate is not for her lifestyle, and will never be.
Strengths-
•Her strength and speed
•Her mental capacity and intelligence
•Her visions{sightings in the future}
Weaknesses-
•The times when her visions are incorrect
•Her utter vulnerability during sights
•At times, her tendency to be vain
Likes-
•Clear, decipherable visions
•Peace and order
•A strong pack
Dislikes-
•Rotten meat of any kind
•Blurry or unclear visions
•Fights within the pack; she believes that they are useless
Fears-
•Her visions being incorrect, resulting in chaos
•Plague or illness
•Any of her packmates falling into danger
Rank:
Shaman
Pack:
Servatis
Crush/Mate:
Not Available...and most likely nonexistant.
Offspring?:
None
Other:
None
Ms. Bennington
Name:
Phyre
Nickname:
None
Age:
Four Years
Gender:
Female
Description:
Her fur is thick, partway between coarse and silky, and a jet black that surpassed a starless, moonless midnight. There is no other color visible on her body apart from her eyes, with are a deep topaz-yellow. These eyes change color to an icy, vibrant blue when she is having one of her visions.
Her physical build is that of a runner and hunter, long and slender, toned but not overly-muscled legs, and a slender head with a long muzzle that comes to a relatively sharp point. Overall, a good-looking wolf, nearly exactly like the picture at the top.
History:
Raquel's history has been kept a secret close to her heart since her first year mark, and she still will not tell a living soul. But since this is her form and not a fellow wolf, I will write it out. ^.^
Phyre had a horrid experience with wolves since she was a pup. Her first few months were normal for a newborn, but as soon as she was weaned and her mother went out to hunt, her mother and father were both shot and killed by poachers. When father and mother never returned, Phyre and her siblings grew increasingly hungry and anxious, resulting in high stress and tension in the barely-able-to-walk pups. Eventually, with nothing else possible as an alternative, they began to fight amongst themselves, driven by ferocious hunger and the need to survive the winter.
Needless to say, the two young female runts were eaten first. Phyre remembers and cringes from to this day the thought of eating her own sibling, of whom she had fondly played with before their parents were killed. With no other choice, they ate the now-dead cubs, devouring with a ferocity coming only from starvation.
But it wasn't long after, perhaps a day or so, that the fighting began again. This time one of her brothers were killed, leaving only three wolves left; Phyre and her two brothers. After feeding from the larger pup, now that they had all grown a bit, the fighting was put off for a good week or so. During this time, Phyre had her first spat of a vision; a picture of her being a mangled, bloody mess of black fur ripped across the ground, her two brothers feeding from her remains. At the sight of what wasn't yet visible, she paniced, fleeing the den that they hadn't yet left as quickly as she could, never sparing her brothers a second glance. She still has no idea what happened to them, has had no visions or signs of what occured in their lives...and nor does she necessarily want to.
After running away from the last family she had left, her life took a turn for the worse. She came close to death more than once, sometimes twice within the same day. She nearly died of starvation by the fourth week, and then luckily stumbled upon a half-eaten elk carcass, reeking with the scent of Grizzly bear. Somehow knowing that the bear would soon return to consume the rest of its meal, she quickly devoured as much as she could, eating a good fourth of what was left before running again, farther and farther away from all she had known.
She slowly began to learn how to hunt, teaching herself the fine points, gaining her own technique borne of her own common sense. She learned how to determine the weak from the strong in a herd of deer, to distinguish the old and sick from the old and healthy, the young and well-protected from the young and rejected. Soon she was a fine young wolf, strong and hardy, able to take down a medium-sized old stag alone with a great amount of effort. She lived alone, an outcast, never seeking the companionship of another wolf, never looking for a pack; she was deathly terrified of both. After her exprience, who wouldn't be? The only time she'd spent with her own species was a time of terror and violence; she had no wish to be with wolves again.
And on the mark of her first full year, she encountered her first wolf after her siblings. This one was another female, alone like she, but weak and hungry-looking. Phyre was immediately on guard, hackles raised, a snarl on her snout, crinkling the skin beneath her eyes with its intensity. The other female seemed shocked; wasn't Phyre supposed to offer companionship, to help eachother hunt? When the stranger wolf stepped forward, head lowered, belly close to the ground and ears back in submission, Phyre leapt, acting on her hysterical instincts that were screaming at her to kill this creature before it could kill her.
And when everything was finished, the stranger lay in a mangled, shredded form on the ground, ripped by Phyre's teeth and claws. And as Phyre looked down upon the dead wolf, a realization struck her that staggered her entire world; this was the event from her vision. This was the wolf with black fur that had been ripped to shreds. This was the wolf that was going to be eaten by her brothers. Which meant one thing; her brothers were following her.
After this event, she has never stayed in one place for any length of time at all, for any reason, and has constantly been on the move for the past two years of her life. She hasn't had a single vision since her first, but she knows that somehow she still has the ability; she feels it, in a way.
But for some reason, the pack of Servatis struck her as different, struck her as home. She, despite everything she had known, learned to live with wolves again, learned to cope with them, to treat them as allies instead of enemies.
Personality:
Phyre is a wolf that avoids contact with others if possible. Even though she has learned how to trust again, this trust has a boundary, and she'll never cross it without help. She never speaks unless necessary, and may seem to have a cold, uncaring disposition; this she does not. She truly cares about her pack, about the wolves in it; without them, she would be nothing more than the schizophrenic wolf she had been for the previous two years. She is truly thankful that Servatis taught her to trust and live without fear again, but she has not learned enough to discover how to say it.
She is a very somber creature, never finding much amusement in anything if there's a serious matter at hand, and hardly ever laughing or smiling when there isn't. It's not that she doesn't have a sense of humor; it simply takes something quite hilarious to bring out the laughter from her. She takes most things pretty seriously, as would anyone with a history similar to hers; she is permanently scarred by it, and has healed and coped in her own way.
She takes any visions she gets deathly serious, and though they are normally no more than fifteen seconds long, they tell her a great deal; it's up to her to interpret it, and since her first vision, she is extremely careful about this, analyzing it every possible way before finally deciding what it most likely means.
Her visions are very few and far between, maybe, maybe once every two months. She dreads the coming of each one, because they are almost always visions of bad things, never good. Once she saw a stampeding herd of elk...a week later, she witnessed a mountain lion being trampled to death by the very same herd. She never takes visions of prey as good things, always assuming that there's a catch to it. This has led her to be cautious and thought-out about everything, creating a strategical awareness that has only enhanced her intelligence.
The rest of her mind and memories are consumed of herbs and the secrets of the forest; she learned much during her two years alone and scared. Everytime she got sick, she would find a new plant that would cure her, and if she studied it more, she would find that it did more than cure just that illness; sometimes it enhanced senses, or cured different things. She knows about as much about foliage and herbs as any wolf can know, and even more about things in the forest that may look, smell, seem edible, but will kill you the second you taste it. And amazingly, she has remembered everything she learned; from the details of what the plant looked like, to what it did, to exactly where it grew.
Phyre has no interest whatsoever in the male gender of wolves, and is honestly convinced that she never will. She is too consumed in her grim history, her thoughts, and her ever-increasing studies that she considers romance to be obsolete and worthless. But, there is a first time for everything, and one could always be proved wrong...
Another factor for her possibly finding a mate would be her trust issue with most wolves, especially males; the only one who truly knows her history is the Alpha, and only then because she felt she had to tell him. She would be paranoid for her life for quite a while into the relationship, and then would never speak a word of truth to him about her past, leading to, of course, issues in that realm as well. She had decided long ago that a mate is not for her lifestyle, and will never be.
Strengths-
•Her strength and speed
•Her mental capacity and intelligence
•Her visions{sightings in the future}
Weaknesses-
•The times when her visions are incorrect
•Her utter vulnerability during sights
•At times, her tendency to be vain
Likes-
•Clear, decipherable visions
•Peace and order
•A strong pack
Dislikes-
•Rotten meat of any kind
•Blurry or unclear visions
•Fights within the pack; she believes that they are useless
Fears-
•Her visions being incorrect, resulting in chaos
•Plague or illness
•Any of her packmates falling into danger
Rank:
Shaman
Pack:
Servatis
Crush/Mate:
Not Available...and most likely nonexistant.
Offspring?:
None
Other:
None
{{I am SO happy this is back up!!}}
