DotW: Alarion

 Base Info 

Name: Alarion
    > Birth Name: Wendigo

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 Appearance 

Built:
Only short before he reached sexual maturity, Alarion made a spurt in growth. He now is an average sized wolf on the thinner side, but not as underweight as he used to be. He still has to grow a proper undercoat, but with the absence of continuous stress he hopes to grow some in order to survive the harsh winters more easily. Due to his delusions [see "Health & Scars"], he sometimes acts or moves in an odd way. When without such misconceptions however, he's decently graceful in his movements and knows to behave around members of different ranks or tasks.

Height: 33''
Weight: 80 lbs

Health & Scars: 

From his puphood he carries two scars with him: one on the left side of his lower jaw, the other on his left leg. Both were caused as punishment for impeding with the pack's ways and disrespecting his parents, but pose no limitation to Alarion's well-being or motoric qualities.
Just recently he's gained another scar on the back of his right thigh. It was caused by a sharp edge of ice when he broke into the lake during this RP. Gladly it's fully healed now and doesn't affect him either.

Whereas his physical health is rather good, his mental health is impaired. He suffers from a mild stage of schizophrenia. Please keep in mind that Schizophrenia, opposing to the wide spread belief, does not usually cause multiple personalities however! In Alarion's case the symptoms are mainly limited to his physical self-perception. At times, mostly when he lacks sleep, he's plagued by phantom sensations in limbs he doesn't have or feels heavy weights on his head or back, resulting in sudden movement difficulties. More often than these widely restrictive effects occur distorted sensations of olfactory stimuli. Familiar smells appear disgusting, fascinating or overwhelming for a few seconds or minutes.

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 Personality 

Likes:

 Pack life
 Fallen or lightning struck trees
 Treasure hunting

Dislikes:

 Sand or dirt between his toes
 Dependence

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 Other Information 

 > He went by the name of "Embla" for the first months in Fellfang. Only recently he's started to go by his real name again. 
 > He enjoys collecting stuff in his den.

Voice:
Kim Junsu
[Calm and Collected, high pitched and soft raspy voice.]
[Cracking, breaking voice when enraged or desperate.]

Theme:
[BrunuhVille - Hero's Journey] 

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 Pre-Group History 

Alarion's parents were both warriors of a sturdy pack named Cairne. In a long winter his mother fell pregnant and just as the snow began to melt, her first ever litter was due. The birth was a difficult one and after hours of contractions and two healthy born sons the middle aged female almost passed out from exhaustion, when suddenly a third boy freed itself from her body. No squealing was heard from him, so she feared for the worst, as she lay eyes on the little brown bundle. The sight almost stopped her heart however: An even tinier, undeveloped baby was stuck in the thirdborn's throat. While the lively body was squirming and gagging to get rid of the impurity intruding its maw, it almost looked as if he was trying to devour his wrinkly, naked sibling. Rushing to his help by pulling the stillborn fetus from the pup's mouth, Athena saved her son from choking. Whereas Athena was determined to do her best at forgetting such spectacle, the pups' father on the other hand was making sure everyone would remember: He decided to give his child the name of what was known to be the most terrifying lore around: Wendigo.

Unwilling to be reminded of the troublesome evening every time she looked at him, Wendigo's mother soon nicknamed her the little runt "Wren". He grew up alongside his two brothers and for a while things were normal. Just like with any litter in the pack, the two stronger boys were soon raised to follow in their parents' paw prints, while Wren needed more guidance. He was weaker, slower and his personality less sturdy. Growing up with the elders of the pack, as he wasn't capable of following the training his brothers received, taught him a great lesson of mental strength over physical one. An unpopular view in such feral pack, but the stories and legends he was told had a great impact on his future way of thinking.

With every passing month little Wren got more aware of what was happening around him. Various battles were fought, other packs destroyed and the blood of his own kind became a daily sight for the youngling. No matter how much he despised their way of living however, it was these ruthless warriors, who fed him. Even by the time he turned ten months old, he was still unable to hunt for himself. Not that he didn't try, but he was to weak to hold grab of strong prey and too slow for the weak one. Over time he heard voices behind his back calling him parasite, though all he could do was bear those accusations in silence. He wasn't capable enough to teach them a lesson and what was even worse, was that they weren't even wrong. Maybe Wren just became more vigilant about his own pack mates, but now daily he felt like things got worse and worse. Carcasses turned foul, they over-hunted their grounds and eventually Wendigo started having dream of the pack's death, which is when he went to confront his parents about it. His mother was a high ranked warrior at the time, his father a loyal soldier. They had to realize what was happening as well. 
Even today he remembers this day very clearly. It was the first day of snow fall that year, a sunny one at that. But the calm weather did no justice to what was about to happen. Most of the pack wouldn't have even noticed his disappearance, if it wasn't for the blood on his mother's teeth and the trail he left across the border. Traitor. Disgrace. Those were the last words meeting him, as he fled Cairne injured and with a shattered sense of self.

Especially in the beginning it was extremely hard for the juvenile to survive as a loner. The winter almost took his life on various occasions and with the lack of food, his fur began to fall out. It was around this time his hallucinations started and sometimes he would lie in the snow for minutes and minutes before regaining orientation. He had to get something to eat other than snow, roots and rodents once in a while. His attempts to hunt for big enough prey to fill his stomach were just another experience, that almost killed him however and eventually he decided there was no other way than to sustain himself by stealing kills off of others. Developing traps for other predators to walk into - most of them just to keep them away long enough so he could get a free meal - helped him survive the cold season and eventually he regained some confidence in at least one of his skills: his strategic intelligence. Dreaming of a place to call home, Wren now wanders the lands with a new name: Alarion. A new name for a new start.

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 Group-History