TRD: Faolin, the Night Wolf

P E R S O N A L I T Y

cunning

You don't become a Falcon by having dull wits. Faolin is a sharp girl, with the brainpower to both plan and carry out attacks and make quick decisions in the heat of battle. She's had a long life and uses her experience and knowledge to the best of her abilities -- both for herself and the Ferox. Of course, her smarts aren't always used for tactical reasons ... she's sly and can pick up on signals from others quickly, although she usually doesn't let it be known. She's good at making connections between a and b, which can be both a blessing and curse. Let's just say that if you have a secret, she probably already knows it. When you only have three legs and one eye, you gotta find other ways to take your opponent down.

sardonic

Her humorous nature has eroded into something a bit more abrasive than witty, but her old self still manages to shine through ... even if it's a bit more grim that usual. Even if her teasing smiles and gleaming eyes may be gone, she still finds herself making quick quips and ironic observations in otherwise serious situations; although her tone is a little more deadpan than it was before. Sarcasm and mockery is deeply rooted into her being, and sometimes she just can't help sharpening her tongue on a Strategist or making some snide comment to a particular Gatherer on any given day. Her retorts are often cynical and definitely not asked for, but hey, it's a rough job to be as upbeat and oh so very witty and charming as she is, but someone's gotta do it. She's just so kind and caring to grace everyone with her cleverness, isn't she?

steadfast

Nothing sways Faolin's resolve. She knows her duty and her goals, and is rather stubborn when she sets her mind to something. She takes her position as a Falcon rather seriously, even if it might not seem like it at first. She's a guard, and explorer, a fighter -- a protector. She knows she has a duty to the cats she now calls her people. She is faithful to the Ferox and the Ferox alone -- they've given her a purpose and a home, whereas the Hunters have given her nothing but a headache -- not to mention they kind of killed her mate. Her resolve and loyalty is unwavering, and even under the greatest pressure she refuses to break. Stubborn as an ox is an understatement.

skittish

Being jumpy kind of comes with the territory after being tortured and having various body parts removed from your person. She doesn't like being in crowds or around anyone at all really, especially if those cats are big and strong and remind her a little too much of the cats on the mountain. The only larger cat she can really stand to be around is Soren, and even that took some time. Her frayed nerves make it hard for her to concentrate, and speaking to others is another matter entirely. She often trips over her own tongue when put on-the-spot, and she often lashes out when startled -- either with words or something a little more forceful. Let's just say that whoever thinks it's a good idea to sneak up on the traumatized torture-victim is going to get a face-full of claws real soon.

attentive

The rest of her personality may give off a different impression, but she really does care for those she's sworn to protect. She keeps a close eye on all of the Ferox, especially the younger members. She makes sure everyone has enough to eat, everyone is healthy and strong, and that all the cubs and apprentices are accounted for at the end of every day. Her attentiveness to her people may be something she scoffs at, but she does truly care for them. It'll take an age to get her to admit it to anyone but herself. Being with the Ferox and having a family again has softened her rougher edges, and she's slowly learning how to show her more caring side -- especially now that caring for others is easier than caring for herself. It helps distract her from what she went through to focus on the well-being of others.

detached

Faolin is a reserved creature. It's the most noticeable change in her personality -- where she was once eager to throw snark at anyone who passed her, she now sits passively by herself as if others didn't exist. She often finds herself wandering aimlessly for hours on end with very little recollection of the time that had passed or what happened in that time; holes mar her memory just as surely as scars do her skin. She retreats into herself without even realizing, finding it easier to cope when she thinks of absolutely nothing at all. It often takes some prodding and gentle words to bring her back to reality when she finds herself in one of these 'trances'.

logic-driven

Faolin knows that to get the best results from a plan, emotions have to be kept out of the picture. Focusing on the task she's given, Fae doesn't go off course even if it means someone else may get killed. She's learned from experience that cats die in battle, and sometimes you can't stop it -- the best thing to do is continue until the mission is completed. It doesn't make it easier, but she knows how to bury her feelings and make sure that no matter what, everything goes according to plan. Even if it's her that pays the ultimate price. Thinking without emotion is just easier to her now.

acerbic

A short fuse isn't something that Faolin is used to having. Her anger comes in violent bursts, flashes of teeth and glaring eyes that quiet almost as quickly as they appear -- snapped words and harsh tones that cause her to retreat in on herself once she realizes what she has said and done. It's the one new trait that she hates the most about herself: the flare of anger that overtakes her when she just can't stand something anymore and causes her to do things she would otherwise never see herself doing. She becomes sour and bitter, lashing out at others before disappearing for days on end so she can calm herself down. One cat in particular is able to see the signs of her nearing her limit and is able to calm her down before she can do anything to hurt herself or, more importantly, others.

H I S T O R Y

[ square one ]

My story, of course, starts with my parents. Everyone's does, doesn't it? My father's name was Evensong, my mother's Esfir. They came from the north, but journeyed down here to Rome where they could raise a family without fear of the death-cold. Then they had me, and we lived happily ever after and no one died ever. The end. What? Didn't cut it for you? Fine, fine, take a seat and grab some food. This story could get long.

Father was a thief. You have to be, in a new land where the customs are strange the the land is foreign. The city was easier to infiltrate back then, and he brought us food and blankets and shiny-sparkles and whatever he could get his paws on without the humans noticing. He was good at what he did. He always told me stories of the lands he came from, where the blizzards covered the mountains and sky-lights danced during the night. He was quick and quiet and always had a sly smile on his face when he gave me something that shone. Such was his way.

Mother was a hunter, a warrior, a protector. She was covered in scars and made sure the territory we called ours was safe. There were never any dangers besides the odd wolf or other wild cat, but she took her duty seriously, and father and I always knew we were safe under her care. She liked to tell stories as well, but they were meant to teach, not inspire. She was strict, and firm, and noble, but she was my mother as well. She loved me as she did, and she was good to me and father.

I had a good childhood with them. We had a large land that was ours and ours alone, and there were no Hunters or Ferox or any other weird-ass faction to fight over territory with. My parents taught me what they new, and I played in the grass and ran under the trees and caught jewel-bugs to show them until my paws were sore, and then the next day I'd do it again. I grew up on that land, under those trees, outside those walls and around the sea and it's all I've ever known. I don't remember much except for mother's amber gaze and father's easy smile. It was warm, and there was food, and I was happy.

[ white shadows ]

Mother died when I was young. She was old and battered and bruised, and father and I weren't surprised when it happened. Father took on my training after that; he taught me how to walk unseen in the shadows and how to steal when others had their back turned. My training in fighting was minimal at best; father knew enough to protect me and himself, and I only knew what he did, so ... I had to take things into my own hands in some cases.

Exploring the territory turned into patrolling the borders, practicing tracking turned into hunting for food, and so on and so forth. I took on my mother's jobs as best I could, and my father continued to do what he did best: whatever he wanted. That's not to say he wasn't around, as he was a very doting parent, but ... ya. He did the best he could without mother around, and I never held it against him.

I grew up learning the lay of the land, how to spot weather patterns, how to track even the most careful of animals. When that got too boring, I went further, to the mountains, to the sea, to the city -- but I always came back home in the end. The humans never bothered us much, and father never got caught, and my younger years were pretty good. Nothing too exciting happened, either. It was just father and I for the longest time, and I liked it that way. We took what we wanted, went where we wanted, did what we wanted. And there were no Heads or Strategists to give us orders and boss us around. That lasted ... a good three years, of coming and going and coming again. Sometimes we journeyed far away from our familiar shores to see new lands, lands where there was snow in the winter months, lands were mountains towered high above the clouds, and even lands where there were other cities with other cats. But we always came back home when we were done. We always came back to our Rome.

[ the hardest part ]

Rune came into our lives a few months before my father left. He came from the city -- a coliseum fighter like father told me about. He was pretty damn useless outside of the city, so father decided to let him hang around on our territory while he got himself used to being in the wild. With father gone most of the time, I ended up spending a lot of time with Rune. I taught him how to read the stars, how to track a deer, where the borders of our territory ended and where others' began ... and in turn he taught me about the city, how to fight, and how to kill. He taught me all the things mother never could, and I went to the city more and more with father as my skills grew. it wasn't long before I knew the ways of the city almost as well as the forest.

I was an adult at that point, and father had always been a victim of wanderlust. He saw that I could take care of myself, and now that I had Rune with me, he felt it was time to go off on his own again, and leave the territory in my hands. So we spent a good last few days together, and then Rune and I wished him luck, and then he was gone, off to see the world.

The city turned into my home as much as the wilds were at that point. While Rune hunted, I took over father's job of stealing from the city: food, blankets, pretty much anything I could get my paws on. Sometimes he came with me; sometimes I went alone. The city was different, and I got in fights over scraps and shiny-sparkles and anything else that I didn't quite get to first. Got a nice facial scar from one particular encounter too. I could see why father loved the rush so much, and why Rune insisted on coming with me when he could. I could never really say no to him.

My territory became his, and even when he got better, he didn't leave. I didn't want him to leave. Was there something between us? Ya, there was. I loved him. Loved him enough to have a kid with him. He named her Trivia, after the Roman goddess of witchcraft and sorcery -- he gave me the cheekiest grin when he suggested that name. Eh, it ended up sticking. We were together for a good long year, and a bit longer after that. Father even came to visit once, and he was in awe as he saw that he had a grandchild. That year was one of the happiest times of my life. If there's one thing I don't regret, it's having Triv.

[ swallowed in the sea ]

I was five when things really started to heat up. More cats showed up out of the city, in greater numbers, and they didn't leave. When I went into the city now, there were whispers of an uprising behind every corner; rumors of a group of human-trained cats ran rampant through the backalleys. Rune told me to stay out of the city at that point, but of course I didn't listen. The first exciting thing to happen in five years? Cats escaping the city with wild tales of Empires in a distant land? It was almost too good to be true. I even ended up with a serval granddaughter for a few months. Don't ask.

Then ... I was captured. They thought I was one of the escaped cats. They threw me in a cage. I was in there for a solid few months before Rune and the others managed to find me and get me out. No, I don't want to talk about it. They tried to recruit me, and after I gave them a piece of my mind, they used me as training fodder. For months. Of course I'm still fucking pissed about it; and that's all I'm saying on the matter. When I got out, I discovered that Rune had met up with a group that had escaped before, and they had worked together to get me and a bunch of others out without the Hunters being alerted. And that was when my family and I became part of the resistance. I taught them everything they needed to know to survive out of the city, just like I had with Rune all that time ago; in turn they offered my family protection and the chance to tear the Hunters down one by one. And they called themselves the "Ferox".

That was when the raids started happening. By that time I was called a Falcon, which basically meant I was front-line material. I helped call the shots. I took my job seriously, and knew that I had a mission to complete and objectives to reach. We got into the city, got the cats out of the cages, but then everything went haywire. There were cats, cats that weren't ours, and they were trying to kill us. For wanting to be free. They were trying to kill me, and I didn't even know them! To them I was just another prized pelt to be hung on the wall. But as they drew our blood, we drew theirs. And ... that's when I made my call. Sacrifice the few to save the many, right? Most of the time, that's how it usually works, and it works out well ...

... Rune didn't live through that fight. They got him, because of me. The Hunters cut him down like he was nothing. I never did find out what happened to his body.

Things were hectic after that. We fought back with everything we had, and we hurt them in the only way we knew how: we took what they wanted most. They killed us, and we killed them, but as their numbers shrank, ours grew. Sure, not all that cats we got out stuck with us, but one more Solus cat was still one less Hunter. Of course, that was when our camp was infiltrated .... and .... you know what? I'm still not very sure what happened with that. There were these leopards, a lynx, apparently we had the Hunter leader in our camp, someone died, Venator almost got murdered ... wow that was a mess. I wanted to leave, but Triv convinced me to stay -- and she was right. The Ferox needed all the help they could get. So now Triv and I have been with the Ferox for ... three years now.

And I'll take as many of those bastards down as I can before they put me in my grave.

It was only a few weeks into Autumn when the attack came -- a group of unfamiliar felines who's scent was unmistakably theirs. They attacked Faolin's patrol without second thought, and although they all fought bravely, they were no match for these warriors from the north; not even the Hunters fought as savagely as these felines did. They tore through Fae's armor like it was nothing, and seemingly before the others could blink, the lynx was gone. All that was left of her was her ruined armor and dented helmet, and a wet trail of blood that led up to the mountains before it too vanished.

No one saw Fae for weeks; many assumed she had been killed by these mountain-dwelling cats. That was until they arrived at the Ferox's front door -- a scarred snow leopard at the lead, the very one who had captured Faolin in the first place. She proceeded to give the assembled cats a speech: they had refused the alliance she had proposed to them, and now they would be treated like the vermin they were and be eradicated. To show them what was in store for them, Lene had Faolin's mutilated and broken body dumped in front of the crowd; still alive, but barely. After the Olum left their land, Faolin was given to the Anecdotists to try to save her. They succeeded, but they had to remove her leg, which was so badly broken it would never have healed properly. Among the multiple scars on her body, it was also discovered that the Olum had removed her eye, ear, one of her canines, and her tail as well. Let's just say the knowledge that Faolin had been tortured left the desired effect on the Ferox.

Fae's wounds healed rather quickly under the care of the medics, but her mind was another matter. Everyone agreed to let her do her own thing, while Venator removed her from active duty so she could just focus on recovery.

Q U I R K S  &&  F E A R S