name: Farvel.
pronounced: [far-vel, like well].
meaning: Goodbye in Danish.
gender: Male.
species: Mountain Parduseros.
location: Andes Mountain in Russia.
character thread: Click.personality:"Don't drown the man trying to save you."Farvel suffers underneath his manners of trying to protect, help, and guard everyone; and it cripples him. If he comes across someone in danger or who could use his aid, he immediately tries to give it; half of the time the species is what he usually considers prey, or perhaps rival males. He extends his 'helping hand' to everybody.
Unfortunately, this lands him in hot water more often then not. He has found throughout his lifetime that a lot don't enjoy being helped; but he cannot deny this unfamiliar urge and despite all odds desperately tries to continue doing so.
He is a shy beast, preferring to stay by himself when he is not with someone injured. He has nervous ticks; when he is awkward, he will shuffle his enormous wings back and forth and snort very softly under his breath, and rarely meets another's eyes. This is not impolite; he just dislikes pain and does his best to avoid it.
While he goes far on his travels, Farvel is loathe to change and he hates the idea of it. He has never moved off of the same mountain top he was born on, and although he occasionally goes down the tundras that stretch out on either side of his homeplace, he always come back to his spot by night time.
Lacking almost completely in aggression, Farvel has a very low pain tolerance and hates it immensely. This drives him to far lengths to avoid anything considered competition, so despite the pleased gazes the females flutter at his wings, he has never fathered a litter before. Inwardly, he dearly wants to; but while his courage is not impaired in the slightest, his idea of fighting somebody else, and hurting them, emotionally hampers him. The mere fact that he would cause somebody else pain is his Achilles heel.
The one place that Farvel does that calms him is visits the femme fatale down on the tundras called the Whisperer. He has never approached her flat out before, but when the crowds gather at her den and come knocking, sometimes he will fly low enough to catch snatches of her prophecies and of their appreciative remarks in reply. He wants one day to dredge his own future from her; but as most others, he is afraid that should he land, something bad will happen.
backstory:"I never wanted you, ya know." My mother swung her head around and glared at me. I withered under that frosting stare. "You were a mistake; and you still are." She snorted, flicking both her ears backwards. "You can't hunt; you can barely fly with those ugly wings of yours. Useless."
I remember that I had glanced back and flapped my tiny, wet wings, and hated them. That they had been what had forced my mother to hate me so much. I had never understood her dislike, but I did understand that I was not the son she had hoped for; and as soon as I was old enough, she disappeared into the snow that coated our home. I remained in her hollow and watched my wings grow into their full bloom, something she had never gotten the chance to see, and although I slowly got over my combined hate for them, I eventually discovered that they seved me well; and could bring me peace. It was only in the scattered tundra clouds that I felt any sort of growing calmness.
But this fact that I had never been encouraged to grow as my mother impaired my behavior. I only discovered that recently, when I uncovered a young deer with a broken leg. Although my appetite had nearly overcome me, I had paused; and found instead when I parted my mouth to take a bite that I was yearning to help it. This ironic change of events made me into the doctor I am today.
My life remained a constant stream of helping and healing until through one male, a tender rumor reached my ears; something of a female down on the tundra that could read the stars and draw prophecies from them. Quietly, I harbored a growing urge to find her and beg her for my own future, but I tried to keep my impulse down and swallow back how much I wanted this.
My mother had always equated me as useless, worthless; I wondered if perhaps this doe, this Whisperer, would tell me something different. Maybe there was something really worth it waiting for me.
One morning, I could no longer resist the siren call. I had already been down to her camp many times and watched the awkward company that formed a circle around her den, hoping they would grasp their own future. When night fell, and the stars pooled with bright, flickering lights, I took flight and landed outside of her territory. Carefully, gently, I passed the boundaries.
"Hello?" I called into the soft darkness and paused, hesitating, when the faintest sound of paw steps drew my ears forward.
She faded out of the white blackness of the tudra and I stared at her as she weaved towards me, a serpent in the shape of a pard. A purr rumbled out of her throat as her hot gaze traced the outline of my wings in the shadows and I trembled underneath those eyes, abruptly feeling as though she was staring through me. I swallowed hard on my dread and bowed.
"I apologize for stirring you tonight, Whisperer, but I was wondering... might you show me my future?" I hopefully looked up at her as a splitting grin curled her mouth. She sat down and flicked her tail tip.
"You may call me Cial." Her grin flashed. "And I have time tonight; I can do it now." When she rose to her paws, my eyes widened and I rustled my wings back and forth, startled by her sudden okay with it. I sank back into a sit.
"Are you certain you're alright with it?" I asked quietly, half-hoping this was all some crazy dream, half-praying she was going to keep going.
Cial padded towards me and as she circled me, her tail tip stroked my chin. I peered up at her and flattened my ears in nervousness, watching as she paused in front of me and pressed her nose to mine. I closed my eyes and counted to one hundred in my head.
98, 99, 100...
Slowly, I opened my eyes. Cial stared at me in almost an awkward sort of fascination. "Wow." She breathed out, and finally leaned back a few inches; once our touch was severed, I could breathe freely again. I sucked in and filled my lungs before I timidly smiled at her.
"Is it...is it good?" I asked. Her chuckle startled me. "I was never expecting to see
me in your future."
artwork: [wip]
other: Farvel is speaking of Cial when he talks of the Whisperer, by the way. c: He has had his eye on her for a while, and although Cial does not know it, if I win Farvel I plan to sketch out their meetings [and their more then amusing conversations]. I'm certain these two would make an amazing couple, if it ever progressed to that; and since all I have currently to write with is a single female, it makes for a lack of story ideas. Farvel has inspired me to write more with her; and he would be amazing motivator. <3
[overall heavy wip]
Couldn't deny his calling any longer, lmao. xD Also, is it the entire form that has to be below 1500, or just the history+the personality?