Eris Va'Ilhann x Loner

⥼ Eris

⥼ 3.5 yrs (winter-born)

⥼ Female (she/her)

⥼ Bisexual

⥼ No Affiliation

⥼ No Rank

⥼ Alive (sick, dehydrated)

Mackenzie Valley Wolf • 37in/94cm • 96lbs/44kg

Eye Color: The color of flame.
Scars/Deformities: Several, including one on her left eye, two on her right upper lip, and a scratch on her right side. Her legs bear so many she is barely familiar with them all.
Voice: Deep, and most days quiet and slow.
Scent: Crisp, distinct notes of copper and mint.

A strong and athletic young woman with fur the color of dark coals and terracotta. Having been born the strongest of her litter, Eris stands taller than most other females of her subspecies, largely thanks to her extensive legs and tall, proud neck. Her fur is very thick and long, especially around her neck/"mane" area and her tail, and lays straight when the wind is not sweeping it any which way. She's a wolf who appears very serious and frightening on the outside regardless of what mood festers within, having been brought up as a soldier who always must stay her wits. Her regal presence may clue the observant into her background, but even the most keen-eyed wouldn't be able to predict that Eris' noble bloodline harbors one serious flaw: a perilously fragile immune system, which only grows weaker with age.

Chilly • Intense • Prideful • Stricken • Tenderhearted

INTJ

Lawful Good

Sensitive by nature, cold and intense by nurture. Eris was raised a warrior first and foremost, deemed responsible for the survival of another before she could even walk. Her stoicism, intensity, and drive are all qualities she's carefully curated over the years; important tools forged for the success of that one goal.

When she failed and consequently thrust herself into the oblivion of the outside world as punishment, Eris' edges became frayed. She was never so agressive or erratic until recently. She's a live wire that flares up at the littlest thing before dampening again, so severely it's almost as if she is sucking the life out of herself.

Where once Eris would have been starstruck at the idea of making friends, she now doesn't know what she wants. She is afraid, and doesn't take pleasure in little, quiet moments like she used to. She doesn't crave work, or wish to spar, or worry about mincing her words to avoid offending others like she used to. She is jagged and sick, and tumbling toward a fate that is yet to be known.

Likes
• Birds
• Mornings
• Sparring
• Physical affection
• Family
• Quiet time with those she loves

Dislikes
• ... Birds
• Religion
• Snot-nosed yearlings
• Having baggage
• Sickness, being sick

Strikethrough indicates the deceased. Italics indicates an adopted relationship.

Sire: NPC ♂
Dam: NPC ♀
Siblings: Dysnoma ♀ (NPC), Other NPC Siblings
Other Significant Family: N/A

Mate: N/A
Previous Mate(s): N/A
Offspring: N/A

In-Game Relationships: Under the spoiler

Past Affiliations: The Hayvwen Assembly (Guardian, Royal Sentinel)

When one is born to a pair of young sovereigns in the Hayvwen pack, your role in life all depends on how quickly you escape your mother's womb. Come after the third child, and life would be an oyster of opportunity, ripe and delicious for the taking as your parents' titles billowed behind you like a cape of privilege, while you narrowly avoid the shackles of traditional responsibility. Be born just before that, as the third child, and you may find yourself destined to be the council's lead diplomat for neighboring pack relations. You will command the scouts and have an imperative position in wartime affairs. Be born first, and find a throne waiting for you once nature takes your father. Continue the bloodline and rule.

Be born second, however, and be Eris. The firstborn's personal bodyguard. Protect the pack's heir - your sister - with your life, even before you can grasp the concept of death.

Eris' resentment for this fate was minimal. Her sister, although weaker and more sickly than most, was a well loved and respected wolf, and her and Eris were close. They would've been even if they weren't forced to be together most days, Eris liked to think. And while she was easily the largest and most physically impressive of all her siblings, she never craved the throne. She wasn't smart or politically savvy like Dysnoma, and much preferred the sharp instruction and physical exertion of a good sparring lesson over long lectures about pack etiquette and history. It seemed that fate had chosen it's frail princess wisely and Eris was glad to play her part in making sure she reached the throne. Even if it meant getting beaten by apprentices twice her age the moment she was able to walk.

Dysnoma could make it difficult, though. Sometimes. Despite their family's and healer's warnings about her health, the eldest girl was naturally attracted to risk and danger and actively sought out thrills from the time she was able to leave the den, taking after their bold father. Eris was always sent after her to reign in the situation, just as young and confused and curious. But somehow, her and Dysnoma always avoided serious consequence. They were a good pair and leaned on each other even in times of discord, finding a balance that echoed in ripples throughout the entire family. They were close, and Eris loved them all. Her mother especially was a figure of aspiration for her. Always calm and in charge, but never cold. While the others would fawn over Dysnoma and giggle at her grand retellings of the day's adventure, their mother never let her second born go unnoticed. It wasn't a perfect dynamic, but it was good.

Their young adulthood started out just as uneventful as their adolescence had ended. The Hayvwen Assembly was a particularly accomplished and long-established group that rarely went through any long periods of strife. Even as her parents got older and wiser, Eris and the rest of the pack were relieved to find them each day in decent health. Dysnoma... well, she was stable. Eris still trained rigidly, but the idea of real danger faded to the background of her mind. Nothing was going to happen to them; it couldn't, she wouldn't let it.

However as all stories go, peace could not persevere forever. It happened four months out from her and Dysnoma's third birthday, as part of the heiress' courting ceremonies as she prepared to pick a young man to join her on the throne as her second. The pack issued a ceremonial hunt, including their best hunters and, as tradition called for, Dysnoma and Eris. It went smoothly, the troublemaking eldest daughter seeming to behave herself for once and not get too involved at the request of their parents, who feared for their weaker daughter. It was just another day where Eris' job felt easy.

They took down a healthy bull elk with minimal injuries and the princess unscathed. Spirits were high and Eris remembers the look of sheer pride that lit up her sister's countenance, having accomplished this rite of passage just as all the rulers had before her. Even as the group had to temporarily abandon their kill to chase off a pestering group of coyotes, there were smiles all around.

Walking back, Dysnoma led the way with a pep in her step and Eris found herself swept up by the hunters, stunned by their playful jabs and cheering her on for her strength. She was flattered, and a little confused, and her eyes were only off Dysnoma for a moment.

When she glanced back up, her sister was back at the carcass several meters ahead, but she wasn't alone. Even from the distance Eris could see her sister's raised tail and snarled expression, emboldened and protective of her ceremonial kill; she could see the other wolf, too. Shocked, cowering, and frozen in place, clearly intimidated even by someone as frail as the girl. Eris knew immediately that they were going to lash out, cornered and desperate as they were, but Dysnoma either didn't know or didn't care.. Eris broke from the group and ran, and so did another at the same time. So much happened in such a short time, but by the end of it, Dysnoma lay crumpled on the ground and the stranger, having fought dirty and hard , was making a desperate escape. The world stopped spinning where Eris' stood. There were shouts and someone must've shoved her, because soon her sister was laid at her paws, choking and bleeding from a crushed windpipe.

The group split up to go get help and track down the assailant while Eris stood blankly, watching over Dysnoma's dying form with the sputtering hunter that had made her stumble. He tried to put pressure on the wound, but Dysnoma cried out in pain, and in an instant he was under Eris' grip. She felt his neck snap more than heard it, and shoved him off the heiress without feeling or thinking. When she looked back, her sister laid dead.

Eris was not capable of processing anything that had just happened. It felt as if she had entered another world, completely separate from her reality. For a moment she just hovered there by Dysnoma, her sister's body still warm while unmoving and drenched in blood. She didn't cry, or yell. Couldn't think. The help would be arriving soon. Eris had failed. She'd let her sister, the princess, the beloved troublemaker, the helpless... be killed. It was her only purpose in life to prevent this from happening. She'd never see Dysnoma again. She'd never attend her coronation, or meet her husband, or thwart her pranks. It was over, and her pack would hate her for it almost as much as she'd hate herself. She had to leave. To run away just as cowardly as the stranger who'd slipped through her paws.

The tears still wouldn't come for a long time.