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|  | Slayer ---
« Thread Started on Jan 25, 2008, 10:19pm » | |
Name: Slayer
Age: 2 1/2 years
Gender: Fae
Pack/Companionship: None yet
Appearance:
Slayer's appearance is without a doubt deadly and terrifying. It all starts with her pitch black fur. It camouflages her in the shadows and hides her in the night. This black pelt is simple; just black, nothing else. But there is beauty in every pelt as well as fear. Slayer's pelt is smooth and not scarred yet, with fine soft fur and a bushy, long tail. Although her littermates loved to play with her tail as pups, now she takes it as a threat and would not allow anyone to touch her precious tail.
Ignoring the fur, we come to the real frights. Slayer's eyes are the coldest blue imaginable, and stare at you. A wolf tries his best to avoid her terrifying glance. And sometimes, she enjoys baring her long fangs that can rip a neck open with ease, although she would never think of doing so without a reason. Another sharp and long part of her body are the claws; they are not nearly as deadly as the fangs, but they are sharp and can tear through fur, as long as her blow is strong enough.
To end her full description, her body structure is strong and big. Slayer is not over-weight, in fact she is quite lithe, despite her size. The wolf towers among others, and her muscles are very strong; however, no wolf is invincible, as threatening as Slayer may seem. Slayer's legs are not long and cannot carry her like a speeding greyhound, but rather average and muscular. Her paws are big and can really hurt if she decides to bring it down on your back.
Personality:
Aggressive, carefree, and ambitious would describe Slayer fairly good. Aggression is common in wolves, but Slayer takes it far. To start out with it all, Slayer loves to win -- battles, arguments, you name it. She will, without hesitation, challenge every word on your tongue and it is truly amazing how she can spit it out so fast. She absolutely loves this; it is a talent, a gift, and just a pain to her opponent, and an advantage to her. Her 'opponent' often replies a smug "shut up," but she doesn't care. However much she loves this gift of hers, it's not nearly as thrilling as a real challenge. For a wolf like her, leaping into battle and defeating and sharing the triumph amongst herself is a dream. It has happened, many times, and she rarely loses.
Now, love is not a gift. Love is a hatred. Slayer hates every mention of it, every meaning and every feeling you get when you're in a love. Being in love is fairly new to her, recently falling for a wolf whom she had to separate with. He was her true love, but now she doesn't care one little speck for him. Love is horrible, and useless. It stabs you back, it hurts your heart. What's the point of it? Slayer won't take it anymore. Having the experience was enough for her; though never getting him to be her true mate, she will never let herself fall for another wolf again.
Having emotions effects everyone. Slayer's main emotions are as follows: anger, boredness, happiness, and depression. Mostly happiness occurs to her, enveloping the black wolf into a world of her own. What a perfect definition. Rolling in the soft grass of spring makes her especially happy, as well as swimming and, of course, hunting. These may seem unlikely from Slayer, but she likes to do them. Anger is another side of Slayer that shows the most; the complete opposite of her first emotion. Most of her anger is explained by her sharp tongue and her wild spirit, but she will round up on you and curse you till her mouth rots, she will tear you and hurt you. Slayer doesn't like killing or giving serious injuries, but she will not hesitate to do so. Boredness is simple. Bored, nothing to do. Lying in her various dens all day. This usually causes depression; then she will think of her past life and all her hates.
History:
It all started in the light showers of Spring; in a den, safe from the rain but able to view its beauty. Inside was a fae and a brute, both handsome and strong. The fae had a ball of fur tucked under it's furry chest, where it would be warm. This ball of fur was a pup. The fae said,
"Our pup has arrived, Gered. What shall we call her?"
The brown brute, Gered, shuffled in his nest and then replied, "Slayer. What a fine name for a pup like her, so strong. I can imagine her growing up to be great and popular."
The fae looked down at her black pup and gave it a lick on the head. "Okay, Slayer." The mother looked at the rain, the light drips falling from the sky and making quiet pluh-plop sounds. The black fae, Shadon, looked at her mate and said, "Please hunt, my love. I am tired and I need to keep our little one warm." Her voice was compassionate and gentle, making her point stand out in a sweet way.
The brute agreed. "Very well. I shall return soon with two rabbits."
And so Shadon waited, nuzzling her little pup and keeping her warm. "Slayer, my dear, I am so glad to have you. You are now the priority of Gered and I's lives, and we shall protect you forever." The fae was no idiot and knew that Slayer would not understand one word, but she wanted to make her daughter as comfortable as possible. Slayer soon fell into a sleep, and Shadon continued whispering kind mentions to her, about how great she was and how lucky.
**
The black fae wandered around the forest, shaking her head. She was now a young adult. Only a few days before, her mother had died of an attack of other wolves. How coldblooded! It was bad enough having her father die by an elk, when he was out hunting the day she had been born. She remembered nothing of him, and would soon forget her mother; what a horrible life she was in. To make things worse, the wolf she loved, Sepher, had left her. They had separated because they wanted to live different lives and were too far apart.
Now she was a lonely wolf, full of anger and hate. But she lived on, and soon forgot about all that she had lost.
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