[Bernard Wolf] Cían Ethlend

[Cían Ethlend]

OOC
Name: Nile
Years RPing: 22 years (since the day I was born)
Other: Cian is bought using the character slot + 2 free mods from the contest raffle. Any additional mods are bought by me.
How You Found Us: Zen smelled so bad that I followed my nose to this site.

General
Name: Cían Ethlend
Birthday: February 27th, 2015
Gender: Male
Species: Bernard Wolf

Physical
Height: 47 inches
Length: 72 inches
Weight: 130 pounds
Coat Color: White with a dark muzzle and dark dorsal stripe.
Eye Color: Golden yellow.
Health Issues: None.
Other Information: Increased size: +3 in, +10lb (from raffle). +10lb purchased.

Mental
Mental Stability: Sane
History:

To the small band of pure genes, the dying breed of Bernard Wolf was one of the finest ever created. The small tribe hailed from Vor'asa, and as they were pushed into R'imdar by the expanding pack Kairos, they never put up a fight. They simply snuck away in the night, their scents forgotten, washed away in the wind from the dunegrass. They would not bend the knee nor fight for their territory- they knew better than to face those who were bloodthirsty. Survival was the summit of their determinations.

As they moved, some perished in the new land, swallowed by the high tide or turned starving in the waste. No creature lived heartily in the Geysers, and prey in the Basin were too small to feed the band of giants. Aleisul was a rocky abyss, and it was then that the wolves realized their fatal mistake- they did not fight for their home, and they were paying the price. Their custom was to lay bodies at the base of trees, a custom that was soon forgotten in their struggle, but the utter lack of foliage in the area made their lives brutal. As the punitive sun led to unsheltered cold nights of the fall, there were but six of their numbers left to speak of. Their snowy pelts left their skin vulnerable to the sun and their thin, tall bodies could not adapt to the cold. Two of them made their way to the mainland, escaping in the night, until only Ethlend Sorch, his mate Muirenn, and her young half-sister Sile were all that remained of their group.

Like his father before him, Ethlend took his father's name as his surname, along with his three brothers. As they left or perished, he grieved for them, but thought in disdain of mixing their blood with another species. They were pure, they were perfect- and though they could not feed themselves, at the start of her heat cycle, Ethlend took Murienn greedily, filling her with his seed over and over again until he was sure she would bear his pups. It was selfish and vile, his personality morphing from his typical goodhearted kindness to a mean desire for his kind to live on. They could hardly feed themselves, but the emaciated brute would not stand to die without passing on his offspring. As she grew heavy with pups, he grew excited- perhaps they would survive after all.

However, his joy turned to ashes in his mouth. She waned as her belly waxed, and before the tiny life could see the light of day, Murienn perished with his pups inside her. Ethlend became enraged, and though Sile had not had her first heat cycle, he began his raid on her most sacred holding. Monogamy was all they had ever known in their small group, and he knew he would have been exiled for such an act. Sile was miserable in her prison, her keeper never letting up on his tyrannical abuse. She became meek and quiet in her suffering, and often went days without eating or drinking. If she refused for too long, the larger male would chew her food and spit it into her mouth, holding her down until she swallowed. He would keep her alive if it was the last thing either of them did.

If by some blessing or curse, Sile fell pregnant. The moment she began to grow with young, Ethlend grew kinder, and she became more sickened by his erratic behavior. He disgusted her, and though she hated what he had done to her, she ate his constant offerings of food. The more often he was hunting, the less often he was with her. Sile gave birth prematurely on a cold day in February. All of her pups perished, to her disdain, except for one- a beautiful male with his mother's stark golden eyes. She loved him, despite it all, and named him Cían- he would survive, and endure, and prosper. As custom, Ethlend forced his surname onto his son, whom he protected with his life.

The three of them travelled together for some time. Cían was ten months old when his father told Sile that she would be forced to bear her son's pups for the sake of preserving their pure bloodline. The she-wolf often whispered to her son, and though the two of them were close, Cían was no stranger to the abuse he saw from his father and the uselessness of his mother. He did not love her- he resented her. She had no fight in her, and she had never spoken up for him in his life. When Ethlend told Sile of his plans for her, she cowered, and in one swift, selfish act, she stood over a geyser until she burned to death. More enraged than ever, it was Ethlend that set off in a mindless crusade to keep his son alive. Cían allowed him to toil, staying stoic and quiet to his father's dismay.

Ethlend's fatal mistake was his son's gain- on a summer afternoon, when Cían was ten months old and more than capable of fending for himself, his father attacked a silvery-grey she-wolf. 

And then, Cían's story begins.    

Personality:

As his name suggests, Cían is an ancient soul. Wise and cold, his demeanor is often seen by others as dispassionate and stoic. He is undeniably cunning and has a knack for stealth, his lithe frame seeming to float over the earth silently. In this way, the brute can be manipulative towards those who he sees as offering purpose to him or others that he is loyal to or who are loyal to him. In this regard, Cían is a true believer in utilitarianism; if a wolf is useful, then they can be worthy of earning respect. In opposition to his parents, he did not develop their elitist approach. In Cían's eyes, a creature's gender, species, coloration, and size are not relevant so long as they have something to contribute. In this strain is the more sinister side of his belief system- a useless creature is not to be tolerated.

Although he is dashingly handsome and raised to believe his subspecies is paramount to others, he lacks the charm that so many others possess. Though he is even-tempered and has skill with words, he lacks the carefree nature from which flirtation derives. Though he is very capable of love, Cían has a harsh repertoire, loving deeply and fiercely without outward shows of affection. It is not so much that he struggles to express his emotions- he simply feels in a different way than many others.

In truth, the young wolf was emotionally wired to endure. He is wise beyond his years and disciplined in every task in which he sets out to accomplish, and takes great pride in the fact. While he is a skilled warrior and analytical tactician, he finds true enjoyment in stealth, believing that intelligence is the true key to success. In his logic, to win a battle means to know your enemy inside and out, and general knowledge is something that he has certain passions for.

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