Fawn;; Healer of the North

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Ⅱ. CHARACTER

NAME:

Fawn

AGE:

3.5 Years

GENDER:

Female

QUICK DESCRIPTION:

{Mildly insane, affectionate cream or tan wolf-

PICTURE:

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APPEARANCE:

Body Structure
How you are built, is how you are born and bred. For this bloodline, it is long and lean. To be able to outstrip a deer easily and to endure these irrational conditions that are embarked upon for the loner. From head to tail, we wonder where to start but at the beginning. A lovely head, small and pointed, with perky ears that show more emotion than her eyes. Neck transfers to shoulders, strong but lean. To rip through this barren land, cream white claws being driven into the hard soil. Long legs tipped with petite paws, cardinal for handling herbs.

A rather thin torso, ribs barley hidden beneath the pelt, though weight is hardly lost or gained. How she's born, how she's bred. Hind legs are a most interesting creating, they bend at all the correct places, yet more than anything are shaped very peculiar. An abnormally long metatarsals and an abnormally short tibia, the anatomy is different. Though not at all ob-seen, merely unique.

Though some loners have long tail for extraordinary balance while streaking across the land, this canine has a shorter tail. This isn't nearly as much as a nuisance in the cramp herb supply den, though it also means that top speed is hardly reached for more than a few seconds in a sprint. So to summarize it all up, small pointed head, perky ears, lean shoulders, long legs with petite paws. Thin torso, skinny body build, oddly shaped hind legs and a short tail. An overall short caudal vertebrae system. {Anatomy Reference}

Pelt & Eyes
At first glance, the original time eyes sweep over this canine; head to tail. You notice the light coffee colored base pelt, soft and smooth, like fleece laundry being taken out of the dryer, still so warm. The shade of this brown fluctuating as hide runs down to the flanks and tail tip, swirling into a lighter tan. Up in the face, neck, and beginning of the shoulders are lovely cram blemishes. Stripes that continue down all four legs and into the tail. This balancing device is a fluffy tail, with an inverse ink splotch at the end.

A very important aspect in the canine is the eyes, a gateway to the soul as some may say. Though these almond shaped orbs show nothing more than a contempt repression. Determine to let no one read the worries that go inside her head, that torture her from inside, writing in pain and in fear. Hazel and amber, an explosion of the two. Whatever these eyes may tell or hide, they were nevertheless beautiful, matching pelt and personality exactly. What lies inside, is meant to die.

Other Features
Though herbs are a strong point, like all wolves, this canine must know how to fight. While a tyro, training to be strong to survive the life of a loner, a scar was acquired in a nasty fight with another rogue. Teeth flew and the intruding wolf snagged her ear. Until this day, the fur has never grown back on top of the scarred tissue. Barley even a blemish, though something that tells a story by itself. Besides from this small feature, there are no abnormalities in this canine's appearance.

{542 Words}

PERSONALITY:

Natural Sense
As the sun stretches across the horizon, warming and waking up the world. To wake up alone in a den, stretching and inhale herbs it is a wonderful factor. Whenever around another, even a young pup, all of well. Ears are always pricked up and a half sitting stance is natural. Eyes creep along the herb storage and pick up any anomalies, fixing them if needed. Clearing out two patches of bedding and replacing them before starting to work on her own pelt.

On a normal day, there is nothing to do, no work to perform. A day for training, to stand up and stretch, padding out of camp and find a rarity of a sturdy tree. Near the edge of the boarder, lays a couple trees where fresh slash marks lay in them. Muscles tense, a leap and a strike is all but necessary. To sharpen the reflexes, to silently train. It gives her another sense of purpose, not only a herbal wolf, but one that can fight; physically. For her pack, not only battling sicknesses.

Alone

The cry of war, in the midst of night. thunder rumbling overhead, an occasional streak of lightning here and there. 'What is that sound?' The steady beat of pellets of rain, soaking the territory in mid summer, when everything is dry. This night will mark deaths of many wolves, though is it another lone wolf, cougars with vicious teeth, or a monster rumbling straight through thoughts. The clouds part, as lightning stripes the ground, beat after beat. A spark, a flicker, a flame. 'A flame?' The single flame spreads, into a wildfire eating all of the tan grass in it's path. 'If there's danger, I will run to you.' The cry is not of war, but of her own pack, trapped by the fire. Smoke filling their lungs, the squeals of kits, the screeches of authority.

'We're all going to die.' Drowning the flames, drowning in the fire. Pelt now singed and black, whiskers burning as their ends burn like straw. Trapped, no way out accept through the flames. 'Fawn, Help us!' It's a horrible cry, fear scent spreading. Cowardly, backing up into a den suddenly the only one around. Stone crumbling at the entrance, smoke filling the warm cave. Whichever was to come first, suffocation or heat exhaustion.

The gentle pit pat of rain starts again, drowning out the orange glow, dowsing the fire and killing it. Like a cat to a mouse, within' a matter of minutes the flames flicker and then die out. Emerging tentatively from the cave, can see black rebel all around her. Not a wolf was to be found, not a living on anyway. But her entire pack, and more, standing before her as spirit wolves. All with the same solemn expression, before the alpha spoke. 'How come you didn't help us Fawn?' The rest chorused the words, until this Healer was in the fetal position, writing and twisting in pain as she experienced each and every single wolves death, in her own body.

A scene that is played over and over inside this Healer's head. An experience that has never happened, but that continues in the same fashion again and again. A fire happening, everyone being burnt or suffocated to death all accept her. Then either taking her own life, or being tortured into insanity by Spirits. It was such a fear, such an insanity, it was a miracle that this canine was absolutely afraid of being left alone. For to this female, without others, life is not made possible. Not anymore.

Herbal
Herbs are one of the many elements that keeps this female sane. Without this, there is no reason to live, accept to fight. Petty wounds such as a thorn in a paw are absolutely loved. Well not to the injured, but the feeling that is needed on a day to day basis is such a motivation. Though an injured wolf is never a good thing, is the just the feeling of being needed; wanted. For without her, that thorn would just be driven deeper into the pad, or become infected. That is even more serious that a simple thorn. It's more than a provocation, it's an ambition.

Belief
This canine believes in Spirits, ever since her nightmarish daydream. Though, an everlasting doubt is the constant wonder, is why her canine ancestors allow her to walk in these living nightmares; that occur whenever she is alone. If they appreciated her, surely they would somehow have the the power to stop these abnormalities. Though the Spirits refuses to even touch upon the subject, and will ignore it completely. 'Why Ancestors? Why?'

{772 Words}

HISTORY:

Pup
Growing up is easy, carefree. Having a caring mother, a supportive father, and then two playful brothers. Where does Fawn fit in? Right in the middle, tougher than the runt, yet always pushed around by the bully. Favoring mother over father, always sitting on mother's tail, batting at both siblings. Declaring that mother's tail was hers and only hers. Not exactly the most sharing kit. Hogging all the leaves and grass blades or else tearing them up so the other two couldn't play with them. Though it was fun group activity rolling in the leaf shreds afterward. Well life was good, as it should be, no sob story here. At least, not until four moons.

It was a rather gloomy looking day, though mother was persuaded by father to take us out. We've already been around the febal territory once before, this time it was just for fun. Playing in the grass, rolling and cuffing each other. Small bundles of fur, full of amazing spurts of energy before flopping down asleep. Though, on this particular evening, the sky started to rumble. Hurriedly, the family was rushed back towards camp. Small pellets of rain had started falling from the sky, thoroughly shocking the kits. Though what was even more shocking, was a great yellow bolt of lighting that shot down hitting the ground. The sound made Fawn's ears burn and her cry.

Great orange flames erupted into the grass, but that wasn't the only thing that appeared. Rooted to the spot, Fawn saw dark red silhouettes of screaming wolves, screaming for their lives as they were burned alive. Jaw dropped, ears pricked, completely frozen. The cries filled her ears, making her head want to explode. 'Make it stop.' "MAKE IT STOP!" the cry had issued from her own mouth, and just as she screamed, the rain picked up and drenched the fire. It has only been a few seconds, though it seemed like moons to small Fawn. Her first sign from the SPirits, and the first step towards her living insanity.

Young
It was not until Fawn was older did she process that the vision in the fire was her first sign from the Spirits. Convincing herself that it was just a trick of the light and the screaming had been of her siblings, attempted to push it from her mind. Not telling a single soul about this vision, became a pack wolf. Born a loner; they had their territory small and feeble. Mother barley providing enough milk. It made no difference, she was loved and that's all she would ever ask of anyone.

It was a full moon later, at almost a year, when Fawn started training to survive as a loner. Always being told that she was behind and had a lot to do, being pressured into learning battle moves and how to hunt; and the names of a few vital herbs for a loners survival. Though almost like a photographic memory, it was no problem. Rather impressed, all the unsure feelings evaporated from the air. Though this yearling appeared 'odd' and 'fragile' she was nothing of the sort. But a strong willed individual, wanting to learn to help others in the most beneficial way. Whether it be fighting to the death, or saving a life.

All canines endure pain for a reason, some is to appear strong, to others it is because they are hiding something. Though to Fawn, it is because that is all she has ever know to do. Is to endure.

Healer

That day comes with pride, and passes with raised expectation. Some duties are relinquished, yet others are gained. Fawn, the lovely coffee canine. Though, not much changed, besides the way others looked at you. To be accepted into the North Pack. To become their healer; to be loved and to never be banished. Needed as well as wanted, what was always a dream of this loner born girl. Miracles do happen; even in the most unexpected ways.

{681 Words}

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[Cricket <3]

assepted of course ^^