KyN: Feykir | Alpha

Feykir

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Name: Feykir

Age: Young Adult

Birth Month: 620/02
Sex: Male

Height: 33'' / 84cm

Weight: Underweight, Malnourished

Genotype: Ayaw Bb dd EmEm GG ii kyky sisi tt

Phenotype: Blue Masked Silver Sable with White Irish

Carries: Agouti, Liver

Mutation(s): None

Pack: Valgard

Rank: Alpha

Task: Herbalist [temporary Hunter]

Past Affiliation(s): None, born in Valgard

Family: Ylva (Mother, NPC ✟), Stark (Father, NPC ✟), Arkir (Brother, NPC ✟)

Personality: 
Many would agree that Feykir is a poor excuse of an alpha. With insecurities bordering on self-hatred, the young wolf barely endures to raise his voice in front of the pack. His past as the family's black sheep has shaped him into a pessimistic and aloof individual who can't escape the feeling that nobody would ever truly believe in him, let alone trust him with the responsibility of leading Valgard. On the one hand Feykir craves validation from those around him, on the other hand he considers most compliments lies, even when they are brought forward in an honest fashion. He's always serious, always guarded. It's difficult to connect with Feykir, and likewise it's hard for him to connect with others. With naturally perceptive senses, an organized work-ethic and a sharp mind, he does combine several qualities of an efficient worker, only that the qualities of a good leader are yet to be developed. Regardless of his insecurities, however, Feykir is well aware of the importance of his current role. He's dedicated to lead Valgard to the best of his abilities and is reliable in everything he says or does. 

Feykir is a quick learner who prefers observation over explanation. In many ways he's a wolf of little words, his learning process is no exception. In fact, if you try to explain something to Feykir without showing proof of your claims he may not even stop to listen nor believe you. Showing what results your strategy brings is a much safer way to attract his attention and once convinced of your superior skillset, Feykir may actually let his guard down to display his humble and eager-to-learn nature. 

Although his analytical and logic-driven mind tells him his family's death was not his fault, the coincidence of it happening right after he verbalized his longing to be free of their expectations causes immense guilt to wear him down. And while it's the main reason for his great dedication to the pack, it's also the cause for a feeling of being caged in the role of alpha.

⨁ Poisons
⨁ Order
⨁ Praise

⨂ Thunder
⨂ Conflict
⨂ Responsibility

Backstory: 
Ever since he grew out of adolescence, Feykir was seen as an eerie figure one didn't want to be surrounded by. He fed this impression with his fascination of the forbidden, the dark and the cruel sides of nature. Feykir himself was never violent, yet his dedication to the art of herbalism produced many poisons and his once careless handling of his goods had caused several wolves of Valgard to fall ill. So much so that his parents forbid him to access the herbal stocks unless accompanied by an older packmate. Naturally that didn't stop the young wolf from finding and mixing herbs on his own while simultaneously learning from the elders, which only fed into the disapproval of his peers. 

Despite their concerns, Feykir was assigned the task of a herbalist, which was the only reasonable choice considering his extraordinary talent and passion for the matter. To make sure he didn't grow too fond of his new position, his brother Arkir regularly impaired his work by destroying stocks or switching herbs secretly. Feykir of course realized his doing, yet there was little he could do about it. Naturally their parents believed Arkir, their heir, and brushed Feykir's complains off as a cry for attention. It was during this time that he developed an excessive neatness. Every herb had to go in its own designated spot and if a single leaf was out of place, he would rather abandon a whole collection than let Arkir's doings impair his remedies again.

Things went on rather quietly for a good few months, life was starting to become bearable depsite his brother's mocking. But it was just then, just when he grew some confidence in his abilities, that his world was turned upside down. Circe, his childhood friend and the only wolf he truly and genuinely trusted, was announced to become Arkir's future mate. Suddenly he feared that their conversations weren't safe anymore - surely she would share everything with her betrothed one, wouldn't she? Feykir grew more nervous, more paranoid. Nobody could be trusted, it was just him and his herbs. His conversations with Circe grew more superficial and more seldomly too, for Arkir knew to prevent their meetings most of the time.
One day, after a successful hunt by Valgard's gifted Gammas, the pack gathered to feast together. The mood was at an all-time high, wolves danced and sang and filled their stomachs with delicious bison meat. But Feykir didn't see the joy for what it was, he just saw hallow shapes that used every excuse to fill their bodies with a sense of warmth. Pathetic. A pale shape ripped him from his dark pondering - Circe, and she was alone. Feykir still remembers his eyes searching for Arkir, only to find him celebrating with their parents at the other end of the densite. "Look at them," he remembers himself say. "Look at them all pretending to be a happy family." He forgot all caution, bitterness consumed him tonight. "I can't stand it any longer, Circe. I wish they would leave me alone."

Those were the last words he spoke before pain struck his body, deafness befell his ears and unbearable heat crept over his skin. And his wish was granted, never again would his family bother him, sabotage him or take away what was his. That much he realized as he, nearly passing out from the smoke, stumbled across the densite only to find the dismembered bodies of the wolves he'd just complained about. In denial of reality Feykir ignored the limbs paving his path, his focus now lay solely on the still moving shapes around him. Circe, among others. To this day he's not sure all survivors of the bombing were gathered that night, but as flames climbed high into the sky, they had no choice but to flee.

But what now? The moment he'd decided to lead them to new grounds, he had signed a contract with fate to become Valgard's new leader. Their Alpha. Never had he wanted attention less, but as he looked upon the injured and dying, he realized that his own desires were just not important - at least not for now. All the blind hatred was gone. Maybe this was going to be his final tribute to his parents, whom he would never get to see again.