First Year of Life
Fenrir opened his gleaming, bold topaz eyes and blinked against the livid darkness. Voices had interrupted his deep sleep once again. His fathers growling voice protruded through the thick den walls and echoed around in young Fenrirs ears. His sisters turned over in their sleep and ignored it - something Fenrir could not do. His mother often would run from the small clearing beside the den into the night, her cries and whimpers following her. This night was no different. As she wallowed away into the night Fenrir heard his fathers heavy footsteps climb back into the den. He huffed and collapsed in an angry heap at the back of the den. Fenrir knee if a predator came to harm his siblings and him, his father would stay safe in the back until the pups were gone. Fenrir slid towards the den entrance, awaiting the return of his mother. Until then, he would be the last defense to protect his sisters.
One Year of Age
The scorching sun beat on Fenrirs dark coat as he panted. He squinted against the blinding rays, and tried to make out the herd of starving buffalo. The summer had been unusually dry and hot, and the once lush plains were stripped of forage and water. Fenrirs father led their small family into the barren land in search of large prey. His sisters were somewhere on the other side of the herd, and his mother was to the right. His father intended to push the herd towards the south, where a dry river bed would slow them down and hopefully ensnare a few, making an easy meal. But things went wrong before it began. Some of the buffalo panicked and took of towards the north. Fenrir watched his father scramble and his body bolt out of the way. Once the dust had cleared, Fenrir watched his father stride across the plain. Fenrir coughed up some dust and followed, exhausted. He neared and could hear violent arguing. His father accused his mother of scaring the herd, and his words cut deeper than the hot sun. Fenrir snuck up behind some boulders, and peeled around. He was just in time to see his father pull away, blood dripping from his maw as his mother collapsed, her jugular exposed and flooding the ground.
Fenrir is known to have little friends, and endless enemies. He sees everyone as a foe, until they prove otherwise. He is suspicious, and always doubts anothers true intentions. It is hard to win his trust, and even harder to earn his respect. He has a close circle of allies, the strongest of which is his mate, Ancient Runes. His bond with these wolves is unbreakable.
Fenrir is dark and brooding. He never shows softness or kindness, and is known to be merciless. He is a massive male, who excels in close quartered combat, as well as fast paced hunting strategies. He blends in with the night, and carries himself proudly. His fur is bloodstained with the increasing numbers of lives he has taken.
~59 AC rarity
~Threw hero UL in his FIRST litter!
~First Ruby pelt in the game!
~19 UL boosts
~2 defect + boost
~Made it in the top 50 breeding wolves within 24 hours