Triskelion

[Crow'sia]

Triskelion ____________________________________

AGE
Four.

GENDER
Male.

PERSONALITY
curious, innovative, proud, possibly insane

Triskelion is a wolf unafraid. Or that’s what he’d like you to believe, the very tale that made his family run him out. Cunning, ambitious, and perhaps a little mad, Trisk began over reaching and ruining hunts at an early age. Since, he has become less full of himself and more realistic in his abilities, but nonetheless ambitious. Likewise, his deep pride continues to act as a thorn in the side of an otherwise adept survivor.

Solitary and happy to be so, Trisk rarely interacts with other wolves. Since his exile, of a sort, he has found other creatures more interesting to converse with, even with the unhappy knowledge he will probably try to eat them after. He sometimes has a morbid sense of humour in this regard, merrily attempting to start up jovial discussions with dying prey. Most disappointedly, the shock of bleeding usually renders such animals speechless. Well, he never really thought hares were that exciting anyway.


PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
Trisk is your typical grey wolf. Light of build, light of colour, light of heart. His fur is a mixture of greys and red browns, his eyes an amber lined with soft pale fur. His under belly is an off white right down to the toes. Trisk’s body is lined with scars, of course, but a thick coat hides many of these.

As for walking and conversing, Trisk likes to stalk. A wolf alone is a wolf dead, so he often keeps to the shadows, low to the ground, danger on the tip of is little black nose.


HISTORY
Once upon a time, a wolf pup lived with his family in a green valley deep within the Rocky Mountains. Prey was abundant. The wolves lived off a healthy diet of hares and deer and tasty elk, and although life could be hard and filled with many an unhappy ending, it was a good one for the little pack. This wolf pup, an exceptionally curious and proud individual, with big dreams and no skills, soon began to follow his parents on their hunts, sneaking away from his brothers and sisters and their aunt. So began the first of many ruined expeditions, until one day Triskelion’s brother, a small pup named Evar, decided he too had a thirst for adventure.

Excited to finally have a partner in tow, the two young wolves decided to hunt on their own. They weren’t yet allowed, but with the older wolves out scavenging, they snuck off to the neighbouring valley. The hunt was an embarrassing disaster. With stepped on tails and ruffled coats, Trisk and Evar returned home empty of stomach and marching on sad feet. The next moon their parents took them on their first hunt. Just as much a disaster, of course, but slowly the two learned, always sneaking away to hunt in the neighbouring valley.

One strange day, they encountered many a bizarre elk with no antlers. The two were skilled hunters now, adept at catching the most dangerous of hare! What was an elk with no horns when you were a master of tiny rabbits? Why nothing! They gave chase! Fur flew, teeth bit, a little elk fell! Hooray! Alas, they were driven off. Alas, the next time, Evar’s head was crushed in like a pumpkin by the hooves on the hornless elk leader. Triskelion returned home, confused, alone. He had survived, his brother had not.

Whenever he hunted now, he was disorientated, overzealous, dangerous. So his family left him, and so began Triskelion’s adventures in the world below the Mountain.