[Eastern Timber Wolf] Rikez May 28, 2015 0:02:25 GMT -5
Post by Rikez on May 28, 2015 0:02:25 GMT -5
Years RPing: On and off for about 8 years
Other: My cbox icon is a floppy whale. That is all.
How You Found Us: Long ago in a distant internet search for good role play sites
Birthday: March 10, 2011
Species: Eastern Timber Wolf
Height: 32 inches
Length: 54 inches
Weight: 94 lbs
Coat Color: Jet-Black
Eye Color: Yellowish Amber
Health Issues: None
Other Information: His appearance is striking, due to his darker-than-midnight coat and bright eyes.
Mental Stability: Unstable
History: Rikez was born as most wolves in the forest were, on a mid spring day. A gentle wind was stirring the leaves overhead and the dawn light had the forest floor cast in an enchanting glow. Tula could see the faint light from the opening of the den. It stretched across the dirt and barely reached the tips of her silver fur. The warm den protected the new mother with its soft walls and packed floor. The three whelps huddled against their mother and began to suckle as the sun crested over the horizon of a nearby glade. As the forest was cast in light, Tula let her exhaustion drain from her paws. She would enjoy this moment of peace while it lasted.
Dorak came before Tula even had time to lick her precious pups clean. He came pushing his way through the opening of the den to find his mate curled around their small, squirming bodies. They cried out at the disturbance, their pink mouths open and eyes welded shut. Tula held her elegant neck over them like a shield. With a snort, Dorak nudged his nose toward them, and she had no choice but to relent to his scrutiny. Their father glanced at them only once before his muzzle curled up at the sight of their wet, thin fur and bald tails. Then, he turned and left.
The pups lived at their mother's side for only two weeks before he came again. The large brute gathered his small pack and lead them outside. The pups staggered out into the open, tripping on their oversized paws and lifting their heads on wobbly necks. Tula nervously encouraged the pups forward as they blinked around in wonder at this strange new world. The lifted their eyes, following the towering tree trunks to the canopy of green above. The dazzling brightness of outside made white spots blossom in their vision, for the youngsters were being lead out into the forests much earlier than their developing senses were prepared for.
Rikez blundered along beside his mother and sisters, Hika and Muk, his dark, fluffy coat still streaked with tints of grey and brown. He never strayed from Hika's side as Dorak brought them to a circular clearing. The ground there was packed down, much like that of the inside of the den, and the pups relaxed at the familiarity. Their father, with his sharp eyes and scared muzzle, turned to them and addressed them for the first time.
"Survival of the fittest," he growled, standing over his offspring with his tail held high. "That is what makes a true wolf."
That was when Dorak leapt at the pups, his jaws wide. With a glint of teeth and a sudden squeal of terror, the brute had Rikez's sister by the scruff of her neck. He froze like that, his head bent over her as her uncoordinated paws waved frantically. When he opened his jaws again, she fell forward onto the dirt with a whimper. That day, their fates had been sealed.
Dorak took the pups to the clearing almost daily, and every time would submit them to intense bouts of activity. They never knew whether he was going to turn his teeth on them or, as they grew older and quicker, each other. It pained their mother to sit by and watch, but interference was out of the question. Dorak was in complete control.
It wasn't until Rikez was over three years old that he found the courage to fight back. Driven by bloodlust, Rikez faced Hika that morning, much like he had the week before. Dorak stood behind the young brute, growling in his ear, spurring him on. This was routine, a fabricated dance that he and Hika had developed in order to satisfy their father's cruel desires. Only this time, Hika was not prepared as Rikez's dark form leapt at her. He felt his teeth sink into fur and warm blood spill over his gums, but in shock did not realize his mistake until Hika pulled away from him.
She was bleeding freely, the wound on her neck a mass of gnarled fur and open flesh. Rikez felt rooted to the forest floor as the scene unfolded around him, aware of only the pounding of blood in his skull. Behind him, he heard his father utter a triumphant cry.
Rikez barely hesitated as he turned and, with an accuracy that Dorak had taught him himself, bit down on the large brute's jugular. Dorak choked, and his cry of victory turned to a savage growl. Then, both wolves engaged in battle, each struggling to gain the upper hand. Father and son twisted and snapped at each other. Their growls tore through the trees like thunder. Their intent was to kill.
A crunch of bone and muscle ended the fight. Dorak had seized Rikez's hind leg in his jaws and was twisting the limb painfully. Teeth dug deeper as Rikez cried out and struggled to escape. To this day Rikez does not know what finally freed him from his father's grasp, but he had a strange suspicion that his mother had something to do with it. Weak and defeated, Rikez was forced to flee as his family was left behind in the wood.
Rikez did not heal from his wound for many weeks. Caught between this loyalty to his siblings and desire to run as far as he could from the dreaded forest, the black brute skirted the territory until Dorak came and forced him away. His time as a loner then began as a storm blew in. Through the rain and wind he traveled on, until his exhaustion made him collapse at the top of a rise of cliffs. There, the land fell away and the sea began.
Rikez lay on the rock face, his fur sodden and body shivering with the wet and cold of the weather. The storm bore down on him in unforgiving waves of wind, and the spray of sea water stung his nose. Hopelessness twisted its way in his gut, and as he stood and looked down at the dark, churning water far below, he let out a final howl of despair before stepping over the edge.
Personality: Rikez has been warped by a traumatizing childhood and a sense of abandonment. His anger is quick to show and he does not try to hide is aggressions at all, in fact, he seems to enjoy snapping at other wolves. It is the only way for him to express the frustrations of his past. Any kindness or sympathy that he previously had was no more; it had been erased by his father cruelty and replaced with an indifference towards anyone, even himself.
Since being forced away from his family, Rikez has made it his ambition in secluding himself away from any other wolves. He ignores the cries of other loners, and instead stays silent as he stalks his way across the land. He once came across a small family pack by accident, and frightened them away without a second thought. His desire to be alone with his burning hate only hurts him, but he cannot bring himself to be around others.
Rikez's subconscious guilt stays hidden beneath this outer shell, unacknowledged and unwanted. His anger shields him from the pain of what he has lost, and he fuels this with an undying passion. He is not searching for anything, not traveling to any particular place. He moves only to avoid staying stagnant, and hopes that his bitter attitude would drive any creature away wishing to connect with him.
Rikez does not let on how bright he is, for his intelligence in proper behavior around other wolves is limited. Due to his experiences in his old pack, the black brute never learned the proper way to greet other wolves and the importance of territory. Though he has an idea of these things, he finds them trifle and ignores them. Similarly, he does not know when it is the right time to submit to a superior wolf, and holds his ground even when it is appropriate to step down.