Post by Phyco on Jan 28, 2006 8:57:25 GMT -5
We are born in others Pain...
...And perish in our own...
[/color]Blight
To nither
Hellion
Blight is an artic wolf, an average size with a billowing white pelt dressing him. The pelt is streaked with crimson giving him a unique appearance. His occuli match the crimson, staring out with an eerie fierceness. Underneath the pelt lies his inner strength. You may not be able to tell from appearance, but Blight is a sturdy competitor as well as a deceiving trickster. His talons are a shimmering black, flawed and nicked in a few places from may travels. A large scar is seen on his chest, a painful memory of his past. His pelt is clean and his appearance may seem docile, but his inner demon commands him. He is darkness through light.
His mind is his power now and he does not let his usually hurried emotions get the better of him. He has a cunning tongue, and a fierce brutality in his tone when brutality is needed and a soft kindness for when kindness is necessary. He has a deep loyalty to his friends, even more so to them than to his own being. He feels no reason to live besides protecting what he has and what he has lost in the past. It is his fierce loyalty and his cunning mind that keeps him in the realm of the living, for he has lost so much, and gained so little.
Blight’s life had begun in turmoil. A state of angst and anger. His mother and father had abandoned him and he was left to fend on his own at a young age, giving him to knowledge of how to interact with his fellow wolves. He could only remember how to hunt, how to eat, how to kill… And this is how he treated his other wolven; with killer intent. He spent his early days living alone, in a lost and almost dazed state. His heart had fallen into darkness and shadow, no light able to penetrate through the thick black shell encasing his heart. Not until he met a group of wolves that changed his life forever…
Rain. Tank. Jager. Arrow. Tyson. Shadow.
His friends. He didn’t know how it happened, but something had told him, something deep inside, that these wolves were true friends. True companions that he should hang onto. His life was not meant for darkness, not meant for torment or pain. He was meant to meet these friends… He had grown so close to all of them. It had been the perfect team, the perfect pack, and the perfect friendship… But happiness cannot last forever. Tragedy soon followed. The darkness that had once resided in Blight’s heart was returning to him again… Tank disappeared. Shadow had thrown himself from a cliff and had fallen to his death. A brutal enemy had savagely attacked Jager and Arrow, Jager’s beloved mate, had fallen into desperation. Blight, himself, had opted for suicide, only to fail and be washed up on the waters edge after his plummeting fall from a waterfall. Death had seemed the best option. He did not want to return to the doom that had begun his life. He did not want that darkness to consume him and drag him away from his friends. He just wanted to end it. He had lost everything. His life was meaningless…
More tragedy was soon to follow. Rain was taken from him; she was lost to the dark. Rain… One of his closest friends. She had been lost. She had fallen into the position where Blight wanted not even himself to be. How he wished he could take her place and bring her home… She was not meant for this kind of life… Not meant for this kind of sorrow. Her light, happy soul, and enduring love was taken from her, her innocence vanquished. All Blight knew was tragedy. Rain was gone. Tank was dead. Jager gone, and Arrow with him. Tyson disappeared. And Shadow was dead. He was alone…
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