Gender: Male

Age: 2 years

Species: Winged wolf

Appearance:

He sports a small, lithe body coated with sleek, black fur. The size of the average coyote, he stands a little less than 1.5 feet (~45 cm) tall. His eyes are a warm gold, sporting large, round pupils for increased vision. To account for his retracting claws, his paws are somewhat larger, but this grants him better grip on the ground. He also sports a somewhat longer tail to aid in balance when he has to make a sharp turn. His broad, eagle-shaped wings (10 ft span) are strong and powerful, and coupled with his smallness and lightweightedness, transforms him into a dangerous predator.

Personality:

A very bitter, but very ambitious creature. Shriek has built a mental wall around him in his attempt to shield himself from hurtful others. He treats everyone with contempt, especially those who are unable to care for themselves. To him, strength, power, and victory is everything. Anything but is a loss. He is difficult to get along with and tends to oppose everything just because.

Abilities/Extras:

• Large, broad wings with a span of ten feet

• Retractable, hooked, and enlarged claws to easily grab and puncture prey. Retracted to prevent tearing while running.

History:

Freak lowered himself closer to the ground, his small size accommodating him greatly in this land of tall grasses. He was about as tall as they were. A laugh nearly escaped his maw. Tall? If one of his fellow wolves looked at him, they would scoff and count him for a coyote. Nearly half his encounters involved him turning tail and fleeing for the mistaken observation. He knew coyotes and wolves didn't mix. But he craved the daily interaction of a pack. The silent signals sent to each other to make a kill, the skilled maneuvering as they ran down the elks and deers of the valleys and plains. The bonding howl destined to bring the pack together as they sung midnight drearies. But no.

His bright golden eyes focused in on the rabbit he had been stalking. It nibbled at the grass, sniffing out and pulling at the most delicious stalks. Here it was, so carefree, like there was nothing in the grass about to slice it open. It was right -- in a sense. Few creatures wandered out at such times. Besides, they often feasted on the other larger prey. Freak scoffed at the irony. He was supposed to be the one acting without a care in the world. But no! A rabbit had less issues than him! He sprang forward. Bad idea. Whooosh! His wings had opened instinctually, slowing down his descent. The movement had caused the stalks of grass to rustle and the sudden current of air did nothing to silence his existence to his supposed victim. His paws hit nothing but dirt.

An enraged roar ripped from his throat. He was hungry and tired. He wanted something to go his way for once. The rabbit was supposed to be food. But no, he couldn't even find a mouse. He was going to have to go home empty-pawed, and he was not going to like the result.

When he returned, it was his father standing there at the burrow entrance, along with the rest of his siblings, who jeered and laughed when they saw his empty mouth. Freak lowered his head in guilt. He had tried to find other trails on the route home, but there hadn't even been a hint. He had even tried taking to the skies to see if he could find /anything/.

A heavy paw lashed across his face. Freak stumbled to the side, and met another paw. His head was now spinning.

"Father, please," he begged. He wanted to let his father know that he had tried, that nothing he did worked.

"Silence!" roared the looming figure. Freak shrank back in fear, ears and tail lowered. "You're nothing but a freak! Nothing you say matters! Those who cannot hunt do not matter!" Freak flinched. His father had a point. It wasn't every day a wolf sprouted wings and cat claws. On top of that, he was miniscule and hardly able to match up to a real wolf. "We're rendezvousing to our summer den and you can't even feed yourself, much less the whole pack! You are a disgrace!"

His father turned around, leaving a cowering Freak behind. "Don't even bother coming with us," he snarled. "No one wants a useless rat hanging around."

And so, the next morning, Freak awoke to find his parents and siblings gone. An immediate anger rose out of his chest. Why?! Why him? Why was he given these useless wings? They didn't fit in any sort of hunting style that the wolves used. He stormed out of the burrow in a huff, his breath forced.

It took him a long time to regain his mentality. He spent the majority of the morning and afternoon wandering through the plains, no set destination in mind. In his daze, Freak hadn't realized he had gone so far as to meet a forest.

Not used to having such large obstacles in his way, Freak was a little amazed at first, seeing something that was so much taller than even a wolf. A shrill cry above him caused him to title his head upward. An eagle? Its feathers glistened in the afternoon sun as it swiveled circles above him. It seemed like it was enjoying itself. Freak was in awe. So wings could be good things after all! Seeing the eagle in action allowed him to assess his own self. His own wings opened up and he studied them. They were similar in shape to the eagle's, the feathers gradually increasing in size as they ran from bone to cartilage. Freak flapped them a few times, feeling the air immediately rushing under each time he lifted them.

His paws pushed him off from the ground as he beat his wings and he was soon in the air. Freak found himself enjoying his flight for once, having been prohibited from doing such ""Freak"" shows prior. The eagle shrieked again, amazed at Freak's transformation.

"Father abandoned me..." Freak mused. ""But that doesn't mean I have to abandon myself."" He decided he would drop all traces of his past, including this odd name. He was going to be himself. Like the eagle, he was going to shriek in the wind. Shriek. What a perfect name. And so thus he began his journey, learning his own ways to hunt and fend for himself. The need of a pack was no longer necessary.