Post by Hacathra on Nov 20, 2016 16:42:08 GMT -6
Years RPing: [war flashbacks]
Slot Used: Won from Halloween raffle!
How You Found Us: i dragged myself into the trashbin, and here i stay
Birthday: May 6th, 2014
Species: Isles Wolf
Height: 35 inches
Length: 60 inches
Weight: 145 pounds
Coat Color: Seal Point (darker creams and brown body, black points, black nose)
Eye Color: Diluted green
Health Issues: n/a
Other Information: n/a
Mental Stability: Sane
It would seem horrifying to most that a pup would be born in amongst a bloody combat zone, but Hacathra likes to think that it gave her a unique perspective on the war, on just how combat can change an environment for better or for worse. Hacathra was born on a spring morning with two brothers, to a mother who was slightly shell-shocked over the loss of her mate a few scarce weeks ago. Jharak had been caught over the border lines trying to secure a meal for his then-pregnant mate, and had become yet another causality of the war, another body that the Foeir faction was forced to bury. Haca's mother managed to get over the loss and pull herself together enough to raise her small family of pups, but she would forever be haunted by Jharak's tragic loss, and would instill a healthy respect for territory boundaries into her pups from day one. She was worried, as any mother was at that time, about what consequences raising pups in what was more or less an active war zone would have, but she was confident that her pups would have good heads on their shoulders and follow the rules that were set down.
So it was that Hacathra and her siblings flourished all through puphood, their mother being careful to remove them should the combat grow too close to the dens for her liking. The pups either didn't give the action much thought or just assumed it was the way of a slightly neurotic mother, not yet being introduced to the war or its horrors. To a young pup, the war was nothing more than just another scary story being told to try and scare them into obedience, and Hacathra was quick to treat it as such. Even from the beginning, Hacathra was the tomboy out of the siblings, often challenging her brothers to play fights and thoroughly trouncing them in the process, but she had no desire to fight on the front lines and would gladly tell anyone who asked the same information. The female was daring, by all means, but she saw the war as little more than an inconvenience at that point, always being careful to stay away from areas where battles were taking place and never daring to stray over the boundaries.
She would have been content with that life, had the war not suddenly decided to hit a bit too close to home. Shortly after she and her siblings turned one year of age, their mother went out for a hunting trip and never returned, and her body never managed to be recovered. Most of the pack that had known her personally assumed that she had fallen victim to some kind of environmental hazard, or simply strayed a bit too far into the ocean on one of her fishing trips and had drowned. But Hacathra had the terrible feeling that her mother had become one more number in the body count of the war, and though her theory was never confirmed she still views the disappearance of her mother with a healthy amount of despair. One of her brothers, convinced that a Siniath wolf had killed their remaining parental figure, set off into their territory in sight of revenge, despite his relative lack of any useful combat skills and inability to talk himself out of troublesome situations.
He was mortally injured in the process, managing to summon just enough strength to drag himself back to Foeir territory before he succumbed to blood loss. That was the last nail in the coffin as far as Hacathra's attitude towards the war went- any optimism that she had still carried with her was gone, replaced by anger and a cold numbness. She wanted to fight, wanted to tear as many Siniath pelts apart as she could for daring to harm her family. Unfortunately, by the time the female had turned two and honed her fighting skills enough to have even the remotest of chances to join in the combat, the war reached a shaky stalemate, leaving her utterly without a purpose and without a change to seek revenge on those who had wronged her family. Add that to the hundreds of foreigners who were suddenly appearing upon her home territory, and Hacathra was certainly not left in the best of moods.
Many adjectives have been used to describe Hacathra over the years- everything from bold to bitchy, and a multitude of other traits. While it is true that Hacathra is a bit of a tomboy and has a bold streak, she is at least respectful enough to heed pack boundaries and not step over them, not only because she has the common decency to not go parading around another pack's territory but because that is how two (perhaps three) of her family members perished, and Haca will not be so quick to repeat their mistakes. She is also inclined to show respect towards her superiors or those that clearly outmatch her in terms of size or physical prowess, but she holds a healthy amount of disdain towards Siniath wolves for the obvious reasons. This is not to say that she couldn't become acquaintances with one given the proper circumstances and enough time, but until the war officially reaches a conclusion, she continues to view any outsiders with a healthy amount of skepticism.
Upon meeting Hacathra, the first impression that many wolves will get is that she is cold, not only because of her tendency to not outwardly show her emotions but also because of her rather blunt nature. The girl used to be relatively happy-go-lucky and neutral in terms of personality, but the casualties of war that hit so close to home have numbed her, turning her into a blunt and no-nonsense wolf. She will say exactly what is on her mind at any given moment, consequences be damned, and she does not suffer fools kindly, going so far as to generally be snappish and distrustful towards any outsiders that try to approach her for conversation. Her tongue can be like barbed wire even at the best of times, lashing out with little thought of what kind of effect her harsh words could have. She has also been known to make enemies more easily than friends, simply because of her inability to hold her tongue and her habit to abandon wolves that she views as no longer being of any use to her.
This is not to say that Hacathra is incapable of being kind- far from it, in fact. She tends to be very close to those who she considers family, and often takes on the role of a mother hen, making sure that they are safe and that they have not run into any trouble. The loss of three of her family members has made the female rather paranoid that she will lose her close friends as well, to the point where she can get rather clingy without realizing it when she first forms a friendship. She is chivalrous, and is more than happy to offer her services to another wolf or rescue them from a fate which they could not escape from- but she usually requires some kind of fee for her services, and will be found grumbling about why wolves can't be more self-sufficient for long afterwards. In a sense, Hacathra sees herself as a hero that was never meant to be a hero.
She can be rather bloodthirsty in combat, jumping in and inflicting as much damage upon her enemy as possible until they give in or she is forcibly dragged away from the fight. The thought that she might unintentionally harm someone she loves while in such a state is enough to haunt her when she dwells on it, but Hacathra is still determined to get out and prove herself to her pack, inwardly wishing more than anything that the stalemate would be over so that she can finally test her skills and give the Siniath faction a taste of their own medicine.