username;;iBrevity
name;;Garwood "Gar"
name meaning;;English name meaning "evergreen forest"
gender;;male
element;;earth
rank;;tracker
personality;;jovial || impractical || dutiful || softhearted
Ever since Garwood was a cub he has been bright and full of laughter. He is reliably in a good mood; he laughs at everyone's jokes, no matter if he's heard them before or if they just aren't funny. He's friends with absolutely everybody and is so inherently selfless that he often will do anything for a friend, or give anything up to help or protect them. He is rather introverted despite his amiable nature and sometimes becomes overwhelmed with his sensitive hearing and the constant noises of the pride. Occasionally he will walk as far as he dare from the pride just to find some relief from this, although he never lingers long. Despite Garwood's national inversion to crowds he hates being alone for long periods of time. He likes to joke and say he doesn't get along with himself, but this is more true than he lets on.
He's not the sort to offer suggestions in a battle because he simply doesn't have the head for it. Gar was made to be a tracker; he works well under another's command, listens and does what he is told to do without complaints, always respects those lions that are in positions superior to his own. He is far too full of mercy to ever act unkind to another; he can't stand hurting someone's feelings or worse, accidentally saying or doing something that makes another lion hate him. Gar is very sensitive and always has an ear for someone going through a rough time. When he is not on assignment he has a soft spot for growing flowers wherever he can, urging out new blossoms from old scraggly plants or strengthening the weak scrub brushes that grow far away from the Pride Lands.
history;;Garwood lost both his mother and father in the war. He only vaguely remembers them now, little snatches of their scents and their laughter; his mother was a warrior, his father a tracker, and he their only child. He had a little sister but she died in infancy and he does not remember her at all, not even her name. Garwood grew up with a gaggle of other orphans in the Pride Lands and has never known anything different. As he was born with noticeable Tracker features he was moved into a training class that consisted only of other Trackers and these males and females eventually became his friends and comrade-in-arms as he grew up.
He successfully underwent training and, at 153 years old, Garwood was assigned a mentor. He went frequently on tracking missions with the female, often off-world and among wars and battles, and still sees her as something of an aunt. Because it annoys her he refers to her almost singularly as "aunt", even now. When he graduated and received his armor she was there with a small, sly smile. As he has no blood family left he spends a great deal of his time with the other Pride Land trackers (the majority of whom he considers his good friends) and "auntie". As it stands he was some 211 years old and is still considered a youngster by many of the older trackers.
extras;;It seemed as if the farther Gar got from the Pride Lands the hotter it became.
His tail twitched once and he sighed, his ears flicking back in a useless attempt to vent more heat. As he walked he veered towards the shallow puddles of shade the thin trees gave off, or the thicker, warm shade of the tall grass. His legs were coated in dust and he could feel it even between his toes, rubbing against the very bones of his feet. With another huff of annoyance he sat down suddenly and then laid down with a careless thud.
His head hurt again. A group of warriors had returned to the Pride Lands and with them came stories and songs; and while Gar was glad to see so many were alive and happy a headache had crept up on him due to their sheer volume. He'd excused himself from the celebration and crept away, until even his heightened senses could just barely hear the dull roar of the Pride. In the dirt he pressed his face down and let his ears flop over the top of his head, sighing.
From where his nose touched the soil a small plant began to grow. Gar watched it cross-eyed, his head pounding behind his temple, a tune that the plant seemed to grow to; it twisted and spun, seeking light, seeking water. He tilted his head to the side to give it more room and the stem strengthened into a flower and its closed bud edged into an open blossom. The petals were creamy white and the leaves an odd diagonal shape. Gar smiled pleasantly at the little flower.
Distantly he heard someone yell for everyone to be quiet and chuckled to himself. "That would be the day," he told the flower.
The flower bobbed a bit in his exhale, which he thought looked like agreement.
He rolled over onto his back with a loud groan. It seemed the new position gave a little relief to his headache; the pain receded when he tipped his head back so his forehead was flat to the dirt and he could see the flower a couple inches away. "You'll never survive out here," he said conversationally. "Not without me."
A hot wind blew through and the flower twisted with it, the leaves furling up like a shrug.
Gar made a face. That was how he found himself, fifteen minutes later, padding into the Pride Lands with the flower held ever so gently between his teeth. He bypassed the other Trackers, who knew of his affection for plants and didn't give his behavior a second glance, and went deeper into the Lands, where there was a small patch of soil that often grew dewy in the mornings. Gar planted many things here, and it was something of a garden to him, to tend and keep safe.
He dug a small furrow into the dirt with a careful swipe of his front paw and then set the flower into it. It took only the brush of his whiskers for the flower to straighten from its slump and spread open its petals again, turning instinctively for the sun. Gar smiled absently to see it; his headache had been all of forgotten in favor of the flower, and when he sat down to watch it he did not even hear the loud voices of the other Lions.
trivia;;-Gar gets overwhelmed by the sound of the Pride rather frequently and has to take walks to avoid getting a headache
-he is absolutely disgusted by blood
-when he's scared or nervous he often grows a flower to calm himself/focus his mind
-he insists his friends call him Gar and only goes by Garwood in professional and/or serious situations
-his eyesight is actually not that great and he's somewhat nearsighted
-his armor is built light and thin as Garwood is faster than he is strong and cannot bear that much weight for long
-Garwood is very quick on his feet
-he has an incredible sense of balance, no doubt due in part to the Tracker genes and oversized ears
-he despises fighting and is something of a pacifist when it's one on one
-not surprisingly he has a soft spot for pleasant smelling things
-(he always knows he's found a new friend when he meets someone and they smell nice)
-Gar has a talent with mimicry; he can convincingly mimic other Lions and most sounds