Spir

[Lanie]

FREE OF SPIRIT, BODY, SOUL, AND MIND

•SPIR•
------------------------------

[/color][/size] Eva Arakari
NICKNAME: Spir
SEX: Female
AGE:Three years, three seasons[/font]
SPECIES: Wolf
TYPE: Gray Wolf / Black Wolf mix
RANK: Resident
POWER: Spir’s power is unusual at best, though fairly fitting for her past. As a pup, she was seen skipping from rock to rock, talking out loud to no one. When she began to speak of strange things to her mother and sister, and fight with unusual tactics, her mother discovered her powers.
Spir has the extraordinary ability to communicate with – and to some extend, control – beings past death. In doing so, she delays their final resting, which may question some moral rights.
She can sense the dead or dying, wolf or not, and is almost unnaturally drawn to them. She can speak with the dead across the land, but it is much easier if she is near the point in which the animal died, or if the body is nearby. Even then, the connection can only last for a certain amount of time. If she grew an attachment to them before death – such as her sister, for example – she could remain connected to them indefinitely.
She has never tried reviving a wolf from death, in fear that she could send herself into death or worse.

CONSTRAINED IN ALL WAYS IMAGINABLE

PERSONALITY: Spir's mind is less than completely healthy. She took the strife of her early years head-on, facing it off and asking for more. And she got it, always beat to an inch of getting permanently hurt and then spared. She healed up and picked more fights, with wolves that were years older then her. Each time she would lost, and each time she would get away without anything to show for it, good or bad.
Being raised as such, her canines are often stained with another wolf’s blood. She thinks little of it, and pretends not to know why others shy away from her. She pretends not to hear the whispered rumors around her, and pretends not to care.
Well, maybe she doesn’t care.
Spir’s developed several…unusual…quirks about her nature. She has an issue with physical contact, for one. If she's not expecting it - anything as simple as someone's tail brushing against her - she's liable to snap.
Pups. She loves pups. She’s not the type who adopts pups to turn them for her or whatever, she just genuinely loves the innocent nature that they carry about themselves. If she gets attached to a pup whatsoever, she’ll feel like it’s her own. She won’t stand for anyone – not even their parents – to rebuke them.

HISTORY: She grew up in a world where she fought against her brothers and sisters just to live. She was shown little remorse or affection by anyone in her life, even from her parents. She wasn’t given enough to nurse as a pup, underfed as a youngster, and abused growing up.
Her mother was one of the younger adult subordinates in their pack, and her father was the alpha. The alpha took no mate, but bred with nearly every mature female in the pack. She had eleven siblings and about twenty half-siblings. Her mother was a black wolf, and her father a gray wolf. Out of the twelve in her litter, only she and one of her siblings resembled her father. And only she and her sister would grow to even young adulthood.
Black wolves are known for many things; their valuability to human hunters, their increased aggression towards other wolves, their decreased aggression to humankind, their almost dog-like bark, their reluctance to hunt horses...
And above all, their history of being captured and tamed by humans.
While Spir always looked more like a gray wolf, her maternal heritage was quite clear. The sides of her face and her flanks were tinged with black, and the customary white spot that almost all black wolves had was plainly visible on her chest. Whereas most black wolves were black slates with a bit of gray and white, she was gray with black visible. As her mother, she was a bit smaller then other gray wolves as a pup, but exceeded them in strength. As she grew up in a land where to survive was, with every intent, to kill your packmates or be killed, it paid off.

That being said, more then half of that year's pups would end up dead before they turned a year old. That left about ten pups in the pack. About half of those would be males – and males, once a year and a half old, generally left the pack or got forcibly kicked out. Perhaps one of the females would escape the pack, too, although the chance was rare and to have a wolf brave enough to take the chance was even rarer. By the time she was two, there were four pups from her generation left; her sister, Ilila, their two half-sisters, Julia and Andrea, and her.

In her first few years, when she wasn’t fighting amongst the other wolves, she was off by herself. Her mother and the elders of the pack would keep a particular eye on her. She would sit for hours by herself, talking to no one. When questioned by the elders of the pack at the age of half a year old, she explained she was talking to Jackal – her brother, who died about three months ago. And so her powers were known.

Her mother named her Eva, but most wolves were assigned nicknames. She was dubbed Spir, for her spirit in battle. Eva had been a mildly tame pup, happy to curl up with her mother in their den.
As she grew older and older, she grew into the battle-hardened youngster that the other wolves had become. She truly became Spir. Spir, though, thrived on the danger. She loved it. For her first one and a half years of life, she was her father’s pride and joy. She fought, she failed, she learned, and she came back to a tougher opponent. She was always a step behind physically, and always a step ahead mentally. The other wolves in the pack seemed to know it, too.
She fought with more then a vengeance, more then just a will. She fought with a passion, a love of fighting itself.
A few months after she turned one, however, and her sister was raped by their father and confided her plans of suicide to Spir, she knew it was time to go.

She conceived her escape and wandered the lands, alone. And yet, as she walked through the fields and forests of a dozen silent lands, she could hear her sister’s voice in her head. Her regrets, her satisfaction, her opinions. And yet, Spir could feel no comfort from her late sister’s appearance. She thought she was going mad, until she heard the voices of many. The dead. The newly-dead, still yet to pass beyond the plane of no return, and the dead at unrest. They came to her, and she came to them. She had a few problems eating prey when she had not done the killing. When she found a live animal and killed it, that was natural. She would not feel regret at the circle of life. But when her powers reached out and alerted her to a dead being, she could not bring herself to go to the scene of that death and disrespect their graves.

Never once did the spirit of her parents come to her, although she knew that both of them were dead. Her father was a psychopath, and she knew she'd be driven into madness by his voice. Her mother was too soft, and would never approve of or understand the life she was living. She’d expected freedom. Instead, she missed her old life. Whether she liked or not – and the sad thing was, she liked it – violence was her calling. Without the thrill of the battles she had grown up with, she was driving herself into insanity. She had to find something…something…to replace it in her life. And try as she might, she could not. She found Kouhai, a land as silent as the grave, almost completely uninhabited.
This would be her kingdom. She wasn’t interested in ruling it, oh no. She would be free here.

THEY FIGHT FOR DEATH, FOR DESTRUCTION AND FAME

SIRE: Kierid
DAM: Alejandra
KIN: Ilila (sister, deceased), Jackal (brother, deceased), ten other siblings (deceased)

Spir as a pup alongside her sister, Ilila.

[/ul]

SHE FIGHTS FOR LONGING, FOR LOVE, FOR life…
BASICALLY, MUCH THE SAME.

HEY THERE! MY NAME IS: Lanie
MY OTHER CHARACTERS ARE: Carger (leader of Ileai)
HERE'S MY ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
The following is an excerpt of a different character from another site I’ve been on.

A lone wolf stood on the very edge of the fields, eyes closed. Sight was not enough to describe the sheer beauty of the scene.
If her eyes had been open, Zephyr would've seen the flat fields that, on a clear day, would normally be filled with unpredictable dips and hills in the grasslands. The snow filled in all the impurities, no place higher then the rest.
It was a clear night, starlit and silent. It had just stopped snowing, bringing a chill to the air and a blanket of calm over the grasses. Zephyr felt like she was the only wolf that could possibly be in the territory, and she might've possibly been right.
She shook her fur - newly transformed to the charcoal-black of her winter coat - and slipped quickly through the snow. She made no attempt to hide her tracks, nor to blend in. She held her head and tail high, letting her scent drift slowly along the peaceful territory. She assisted it, with the occasional and intentional marking. Let her presence be known; let her scent waft through any daring wolf. Let her ever-darkening fur be spied against the background of whiteness.
Zephyr stopped, reaching the fence that would mark the border of these lands. There it was; her land.
For now.
The unspoken law of wolf, by nature and instinct, told her that the land was hers. Her knowledge and experience told her likewise.
For now.
Let the strange, lone wolf be spied or forgotten.

For now.

Accepted By: Hybrid