Post by Akante on Aug 10, 2009 20:15:39 GMT -5
She's Arrived
-|[¤]|-
Basics
--¤--
[¤--Name :: Hysteria.
[¤--Pronunciation :: Hisss-tair-eee-uh.
[¤--Blackblood Name :: Crossrage. (Do Not Ever Use).
[¤--Alias :: Hyss.
[¤--Age :: 4 Years.
[¤--Species :: 75% Timber || 25% Arctic.
[¤--Gender :: Female.
[¤--Sexuality :: Heterosexual.
[¤--Height :: 3'.
[¤--Wheight :: 120 lbs.
Pack
--¤--
[¤--Past Pack(s) :: Blackblood Outlands, Glacial Beach, Corrazine Clan, Free Marshlands, Saboro.
[¤--Past Rank(s) :: Guard, Rogue, Halamine, Rogue, Slab.
[¤--Current Pack :: Saboro.
[¤--Current Rank :: Sentry.
Lineage
--¤--
[¤--Mother ::Deceased.
[¤--Father ::Deceased.
[¤--Siblings :: Missing. Deceased.
[¤--Half-Siblings :: Unaware.
[¤--Grandmother ::Cariza.
[¤--Grandfather ::Marrano.
[¤--Others :: Unaware.
Family
--¤--
[¤--Mate :: None.
[¤--Pups :: None.
[¤--Past Mates :: None.
Outside
--¤--
[¤--Reference :: Click.
[¤--Eyes :: Vibrant yellow and gold.
[¤--Fur :: Pale white. Deep ash. Pale grey. Bold brown hair.
[¤--Markings :: A lot. . .
[¤--Accessories :: Two golden feathers, marking determination. A marroon, circular earring marking ferocity.
[¤--Scars :: Two slashes under left eye. One above left eye.
[¤--Other :: N/A.
Inside
--¤--
[¤--Likes :: Power. Admiration. Nighttime. Freedom. Respect. Authority. Success.
[¤--Dislikes :: Disrespect towards her. Submission. Cold. Rodents. Blackbloods. The Blackblood Pack. Rhinjin Nighteyes.
[¤--Dream :: To rule over a pack. To find her perfect someone. To get revenge.
[¤--Fears :: Death. Defeat.
[¤--Values :: Pride. Independance. Determination. Love.
[¤--Personality :: Hysteria is extremely strong and blunt. She is quick to talk and react to comments, and usually her replies are mixed in with a crude joke - a joke that is not to be laughed at. Occasionally, this means that it could be a rude insult, or maybe even a helpful critique. Whatever the case, she cannot hold back how she feels. She is fierce in her determination, as she never gives up. She believes that even if you fail the first time, there are still plenty of other times. It is all upon whether or not you see and grab those upcoming opportunities. Often, she is disgusted with those who lazily watch those come and go, and she will willingly go and rant at them. She knows that others are weaker than her, and that she feels proud of herself for being so wise and strong, but she can't help but yell at others to make them better. Not because she wants them to improve, but more for the glory of knowing so much more than others, and making sure that they know it. However, when something, usually a conflict or some other situation, bothers her. . . she doesn't react to those around her. She usually snaps at inanimate objects. They can't fight back, so it is much easier to lash out at some tree than some whelp who would yelp and run away.
In battle, when it comes to it, she is highly trained. In her old pack, Hyss was trained by the best, and so she knows many valuable tactics and strategies. However, her only weakness is reacting quickly enough after missing her strike. She can do it, it just won't be as quickly and sudden as her other assaults would be. She believes that in fighting, one can earn more knowledge than trying to watch from the side. She believes in personal experience rather than witnessing an event. She is swift and cunning, and is always quick to come up with a plan. She can be arrogant and crude while she is fighting, but to her it is part of the game. A game, that is what a battle is to her. . .
Family, however, is very important to her. Siblings and other relatives mean nothing to her. The only kind of family that is of any importance to this she-wolf is her mate, her pups, and any grandchildren she may have. She'd take great pride in being a mother, should she ever have a litter, and loves to earn respect and care from her mate. She can be very loyal to the one she loves, and she will always be there for her pups.
History
--¤--
[¤--Past :: A traitor. A cold-hearted traitor. She was born to be one, and yet it never seem to come to her mind, not until she grew older.
Hysteria always knew there was something wrong with her, she could never point it out though. She would have trouble concetrating and focusing within her pack. She was a member of the Blackbloods though, by birth. But her parents, they went out one day, and they never came back. The she-wolf was so young then, just learning the tactics of basic hunting. She was deeply troubled, sad, and depressed. And, only to make things worse, horrid rumors were passing through. Although it was only the regular gossipers, known to gravely twist the tales, that said them, Hyss believed them. 'I bet you they were caught as traitors, killed by alpha Rhinjin. . .' 'I heard that they attempted to kill an intruder, and so-and-so thought it was a pack member and attacked. They were such wimps and couldn't defend themselves. . .' More and more stories evolved, and it was never quite clear what actually happened. But being so young, believed the tales that echoed through the packlands. As they were her parents, Hysteria refused to believe that they could be so horrid, so trecherous. But she still believed that they were killed from within the pack, and so, from then on, she held an unknowing hatred towards the pack.
Time passed and she grew older, only to be sent to the Man Villages, seeking her tattoos. She didn't really want them much, to be labelled as one of these horrid creatures, but she did want to get away from the territory. She needed to be free from the scorching desert for a while. She trained hard and long, keeping as focused as she could. She never actually met with Cyrus, not face to face, but she heard enough about him to not be eager to see him. Not in a bad way, but it's simply that she wasn't so obsessed with seeing and talking to the authority. She hates suck-ups. However, she was often scolded, as she would pick fights and fight them fiercely with her fellow packmates that were also training with her. But, she made it to the Hunt. To bring down a mammoth, it didn't seem like too big of a deal to her. Not at all. But when she saw the massive creature, looming in the distance, she felt a sudden rage. She didn't know why, but she did. At the signal to attack, she was the first to launch out. Agressive with immense speed, she leapt upwards, her growls thundering. She clasped the thick fur of the mammoth, and only the fur. It was too thick, too coarse for her. Adjusting herself, her claws scraped and scratched along her prey's side, until at last her teeth managed to reach and break the skin too. She clung, more by the desire to kill than to not fall, on the target's shoulder, while the others attacked and brought it down. Finally. . .
She earned her tattoos quickly after that, being given the red color for her fierce rage and determination. She can't exactly remember much from the day that she received her markings, mainly that the human who gave them to her reeked. What a disgusting creature. . . humans. They gave her her Blackblood Name: Crossrage. 'She was quick to act, and aggressive with her intentions. . .' Along with her tattoos and name, a young boy came to her, a bit frightened by her fierce stance, and clipped in two golden feathers to her neck. 'She's determined, aware. . . of her surroundings. She deserves it.' He said, only to be followed by another male, this one looking into his teen years. He stabbed her ear with a thin and sharp point, and Crossrage snarled. Once restrained properly, the boy pinned in a maroon, orb earring, saying 'Another accent to her fierce aggression. . .'
Within a week of receiving her tattoos and her name, she eagerly set off for home. She hated being with the dogs, ands he felt much better being at home with her own kind. Well, not really. Only after she came home was she reminded of how much she hated it. Blackbloods. . . traitors. She kept true to her new name, Crossrage, and was swift and blunt with anyone who confronted her. She was soon given the rank of Guard, as somehow they saw it a necessary rank. She never knew why. And then. . . one day while keeping to the outskirts of the borders, as she always does, she saw him. A wolf, lean and sly. Not one of the pack. She kept low, sneaking up on him. But to her surprise he had also noticed her and attacked her simultaneously. She rolled him over, asking who he was. 'A spy.' he said, almost too pleased of himself. Curious, and almost delighted by his answer, she released him, only to sit down. This was her chance, to get back at the pack that had slain her kin. She offered him her intelligence, as being a member of the pack. 'Oh really? And what would you get?' He was suspicious, but he obviously trusted her because he didn't leave. Her family, murdered by their own pack. She wanted to get back at them. He seemed to understand, and so they set up multiple meeting dates, as to discuss anything new that Crossrage had to say.
For weeks upon weeks they would meet, in the most secluded parts of the territory. Crossrage would share what she could with him, trying to tell anything that might come of use to him. She never learned of his pack, but she wasn't all that curious. If they had sent a spy, then thy must be enemies with the Blackbloods.
And again they met, a cloudy day with a thick overcast and the usual high heat. The male was near the borders, and it was more than easy for Crossrage to track him. She already knew what his scent was, so now she knew who she was looking for. 'What have you got to offer me this time?' He asked, and Cross was more than happy to share as she sneered, her eyes shining with surpressed knowledge. She spoke in silence with him, keeping to the shadows as much as she could. But what she wasn't counting on was being caught, as she would. Nighteyes, a scout-in-training at the time, was on patrol. He caught an unfamiliar scent, mingled with one he had scented several times within the pack. And there they were, talking, slyly. Alarmed, he yelped in surprise, only to catch the two wolves' attention. The male darted, fleeing the scene before Night could catch a good look at him. And, almost instantly, Crossrage set after her packmate. She couldn't let him squeal! But Nighteyes was too fast, more out of fear and shock, and fled before she could reach him.
As she returned to the heart of the packlands, she was greeted by the fierce pounding and snarls of the warriors. They attack her, scratching her belly and her back and neck. . . anything they could. Since they were still packmates, however, several of them couldn't find the heart to actually kill her. She lay mangled, blood dripping from her scars as she struggled to keep herself up. Soon Rhinjin approached the scene, his face grave and spine-tingling. 'You traitor! How dare you come back, as if seeking a packmate's welcome! Leave! You are no member of this pack! You are nothing but dirt! Get out while you still have your life. . .' And with that the warriors chased her, and chased her until she reached the borders. She yelled back at them, filled with fear for her life and anger, that she was no longer a part of their pack by her own choice! Exhausted from the brutal beating and her heart racing as she fled for her life, she looked back. Back at the life she once lived, the pack she hated so dearly. And yet there was some sadness lingering among her. She had no one now. . . nowhere to go to. No one to see. . . But she would get her revenge, she wasn't finished just yet. Warped by her loathing to the Blackbloods, she dropped the name Crossrage, and took her title as Hysteria, once again.
Days and days passed, and soon she was in neutral territory. She was fine, or so she thought. Her rage and hatred towards the Blackbloods rose by the hour, and there was nothing that could stop that. She took a quick stop by a lake, bending down slowly to take a sip. And then she saw it. Her tattoos. Markings of her enemies. Enraged beyond belief, she snarled deeply, her throat aching as she roared intensly. Her vicious call echoed through the territory, and attracted a wandering sabre. He approached her, almost cautiously. 'Are you alright, miss?' Suddenly, the she-wolf snapped at him. Her eyes were wild, her pelt bristled as she panted her anger. She demanded that he scratch her! 'What. . ?' He asked, a bit frightened of what she had required of him. She repeated it, fumed, telling him to take away the dreaded markings! He winced, slowly approaching her as she lowered her head in preperation. He gulped, too nervous to do this. She would be angry, no doubt about that. He closed his eyes and slashed out. Growling in the sharp pain, Hysteria gripped the ground with her thick claws. She glance over to the lake, seeing the results. Barely anything! The tattoos were still there! Infuriated, she growled and barked with rage, charging at the sabre as he fled.
No one understands her, and no one ever can.
Driven by rage and the desire to show that damned pack that she wasn't going to be worthless without them, she headed for the marshlands. There she fought and conquered for territory, where she established the Corrazine Clan. Leading as the Halamine, she led a mass acceptance, observing and judging as several creatures came to test their strengths for her. One of them, Riocard, seemed to have a clever mind about him, and knew how to behave. Good. A few suck-ups were there, and she paid them little mind. They weren't worth any attention. But one wolf stood out, Hortense. This fool of a wolf ventured in with what seemed to be Blackblood tattoos. Enraged, Hysteria sent the other recruits to rid that mongrel of them. If he wanted in on the Clan, he had to be presentable, right? One of the suck-ups claimed the right side of his face, and an opportunistic pup came charging in on the scene, claiming the left side in haste. Intrigued, Hysteria learned this pup to be Grette, an illiterate though very unique pup. Some wolves chased out, and others let in, the acceptances closed hastily.
But time was not on her side, and within two weeks, a huge flood swept through her lands. With the territory having been so low in elevation, she had no choice but to flee the land. Others did so, as well. Corrazine was gone.
Disappointed and disgusted, the ex-Halamine treaded through neutral lands for a couple of weeks before returning to the marshes. But this time she didn't try to raise Corrazine back up, no. This time she sought acceptance to Saboro, the vicious red-tattooed wolves. But they weren't Blackblood tattoos, thank the alphas. These were tattoos of respect and rank. At acceptance, Hyss was met up with none other than the Queen, herself. Sabora Halberd. Her pups soon accompanied her, their savage little red eyes watching eagerly. Waiting for a bloodbath, were they? Words were exchanged, and before Hyss could be accepted, the Queen made sure she knew that she was no longer a Halamine. A quick slash, the Queen took a bite above Hysteria's left eye. Another scar. But she was accepted, now a Slab of Saboro.
Intent on making herself useful, as the Sabora had said in acceptance, Hyss went straight to work. She went to the Sentry Recruitment. Arriving late, she was on the immediate disapproval of the Saborakos, Greyblues and Flynn. Their command was simple - strike and kill the recruit who spoke with disrespect. Hysteria gladly obliged, slashing him across the neck and snapping her jaws shut on the left side of his face. Just as the Queen had slashed her face. This fool would pay. Others joined in, and the fool soon lay limp on the ground, bloodied and broken. Dead. Ranks were passed out, not to Hyss, however. Though she received a compliment from Greyblues on her attack, her tardiness was her fault. Disappointed again, Hyss sulked off, desperate to prove herself worthy of a rank. Worthy of Saboro. Useful.
About a week after that, having wandered through Saboro's territory, ring ii. She hunted frequently and avoided everyone at all cost. She could feel herself slipping, her desire to be powerful. Her once proud, dominent attitude. Her cruel and snappy nature. It seemed to be disappearing. No purpose. But Halberd crossed her path again, and asked curtly 'what the fuck she'd done for the pack'. Hyss stared her down for a bit, before replying that she hadn't done much, and been rejected as a sentry. A minute or so of awkward pauses, and the Sabora walked towards her, a low growl in her throat. She told the Slab that perhaps she could prove herself a worthy Sentry, and promoted her to such rank. A snappy bark towards the face again, and the Sabora meandered away.
Hyss is now determined to make herself useful, but she can't find her fire. She feels too desperate... Still, she works her duties out, meeting up with a few members, Dacki and Sanuye, and fulfilling her Sentry duties. She ran Cutter's acceptance, encountering Roger in the process, and the recruit's judgement still waits...
Other
--¤--
[¤--Quote :: "Screw you, I'm better."
[¤--Design (c) Akante.
[¤--Character (c) Akante.
[¤--Based Off Of Akante.
[¤--Profile (c) Simulizi.
-|[¤]|-
Basics
--¤--
[¤--Name :: Hysteria.
[¤--Pronunciation :: Hisss-tair-eee-uh.
[¤--Blackblood Name :: Crossrage. (Do Not Ever Use).
[¤--Alias :: Hyss.
[¤--Age :: 4 Years.
[¤--Species :: 75% Timber || 25% Arctic.
[¤--Gender :: Female.
[¤--Sexuality :: Heterosexual.
[¤--Height :: 3'.
[¤--Wheight :: 120 lbs.
Pack
--¤--
[¤--Past Pack(s) :: Blackblood Outlands, Glacial Beach, Corrazine Clan, Free Marshlands, Saboro.
[¤--Past Rank(s) :: Guard, Rogue, Halamine, Rogue, Slab.
[¤--Current Pack :: Saboro.
[¤--Current Rank :: Sentry.
Lineage
--¤--
[¤--Mother ::
[¤--Father ::
[¤--Siblings :: Missing. Deceased.
[¤--Half-Siblings :: Unaware.
[¤--Grandmother ::
[¤--Grandfather ::
[¤--Others :: Unaware.
Family
--¤--
[¤--Mate :: None.
[¤--Pups :: None.
[¤--Past Mates :: None.
Outside
--¤--
[¤--Reference :: Click.
[¤--Eyes :: Vibrant yellow and gold.
[¤--Fur :: Pale white. Deep ash. Pale grey. Bold brown hair.
[¤--Markings :: A lot. . .
[¤--Accessories :: Two golden feathers, marking determination. A marroon, circular earring marking ferocity.
[¤--Scars :: Two slashes under left eye. One above left eye.
[¤--Other :: N/A.
Inside
--¤--
[¤--Likes :: Power. Admiration. Nighttime. Freedom. Respect. Authority. Success.
[¤--Dislikes :: Disrespect towards her. Submission. Cold. Rodents. Blackbloods. The Blackblood Pack. Rhinjin Nighteyes.
[¤--Dream :: To rule over a pack. To find her perfect someone. To get revenge.
[¤--Fears :: Death. Defeat.
[¤--Values :: Pride. Independance. Determination. Love.
[¤--Personality :: Hysteria is extremely strong and blunt. She is quick to talk and react to comments, and usually her replies are mixed in with a crude joke - a joke that is not to be laughed at. Occasionally, this means that it could be a rude insult, or maybe even a helpful critique. Whatever the case, she cannot hold back how she feels. She is fierce in her determination, as she never gives up. She believes that even if you fail the first time, there are still plenty of other times. It is all upon whether or not you see and grab those upcoming opportunities. Often, she is disgusted with those who lazily watch those come and go, and she will willingly go and rant at them. She knows that others are weaker than her, and that she feels proud of herself for being so wise and strong, but she can't help but yell at others to make them better. Not because she wants them to improve, but more for the glory of knowing so much more than others, and making sure that they know it. However, when something, usually a conflict or some other situation, bothers her. . . she doesn't react to those around her. She usually snaps at inanimate objects. They can't fight back, so it is much easier to lash out at some tree than some whelp who would yelp and run away.
In battle, when it comes to it, she is highly trained. In her old pack, Hyss was trained by the best, and so she knows many valuable tactics and strategies. However, her only weakness is reacting quickly enough after missing her strike. She can do it, it just won't be as quickly and sudden as her other assaults would be. She believes that in fighting, one can earn more knowledge than trying to watch from the side. She believes in personal experience rather than witnessing an event. She is swift and cunning, and is always quick to come up with a plan. She can be arrogant and crude while she is fighting, but to her it is part of the game. A game, that is what a battle is to her. . .
Family, however, is very important to her. Siblings and other relatives mean nothing to her. The only kind of family that is of any importance to this she-wolf is her mate, her pups, and any grandchildren she may have. She'd take great pride in being a mother, should she ever have a litter, and loves to earn respect and care from her mate. She can be very loyal to the one she loves, and she will always be there for her pups.
History
--¤--
[¤--Past :: A traitor. A cold-hearted traitor. She was born to be one, and yet it never seem to come to her mind, not until she grew older.
Hysteria always knew there was something wrong with her, she could never point it out though. She would have trouble concetrating and focusing within her pack. She was a member of the Blackbloods though, by birth. But her parents, they went out one day, and they never came back. The she-wolf was so young then, just learning the tactics of basic hunting. She was deeply troubled, sad, and depressed. And, only to make things worse, horrid rumors were passing through. Although it was only the regular gossipers, known to gravely twist the tales, that said them, Hyss believed them. 'I bet you they were caught as traitors, killed by alpha Rhinjin. . .' 'I heard that they attempted to kill an intruder, and so-and-so thought it was a pack member and attacked. They were such wimps and couldn't defend themselves. . .' More and more stories evolved, and it was never quite clear what actually happened. But being so young, believed the tales that echoed through the packlands. As they were her parents, Hysteria refused to believe that they could be so horrid, so trecherous. But she still believed that they were killed from within the pack, and so, from then on, she held an unknowing hatred towards the pack.
Time passed and she grew older, only to be sent to the Man Villages, seeking her tattoos. She didn't really want them much, to be labelled as one of these horrid creatures, but she did want to get away from the territory. She needed to be free from the scorching desert for a while. She trained hard and long, keeping as focused as she could. She never actually met with Cyrus, not face to face, but she heard enough about him to not be eager to see him. Not in a bad way, but it's simply that she wasn't so obsessed with seeing and talking to the authority. She hates suck-ups. However, she was often scolded, as she would pick fights and fight them fiercely with her fellow packmates that were also training with her. But, she made it to the Hunt. To bring down a mammoth, it didn't seem like too big of a deal to her. Not at all. But when she saw the massive creature, looming in the distance, she felt a sudden rage. She didn't know why, but she did. At the signal to attack, she was the first to launch out. Agressive with immense speed, she leapt upwards, her growls thundering. She clasped the thick fur of the mammoth, and only the fur. It was too thick, too coarse for her. Adjusting herself, her claws scraped and scratched along her prey's side, until at last her teeth managed to reach and break the skin too. She clung, more by the desire to kill than to not fall, on the target's shoulder, while the others attacked and brought it down. Finally. . .
She earned her tattoos quickly after that, being given the red color for her fierce rage and determination. She can't exactly remember much from the day that she received her markings, mainly that the human who gave them to her reeked. What a disgusting creature. . . humans. They gave her her Blackblood Name: Crossrage. 'She was quick to act, and aggressive with her intentions. . .' Along with her tattoos and name, a young boy came to her, a bit frightened by her fierce stance, and clipped in two golden feathers to her neck. 'She's determined, aware. . . of her surroundings. She deserves it.' He said, only to be followed by another male, this one looking into his teen years. He stabbed her ear with a thin and sharp point, and Crossrage snarled. Once restrained properly, the boy pinned in a maroon, orb earring, saying 'Another accent to her fierce aggression. . .'
Within a week of receiving her tattoos and her name, she eagerly set off for home. She hated being with the dogs, ands he felt much better being at home with her own kind. Well, not really. Only after she came home was she reminded of how much she hated it. Blackbloods. . . traitors. She kept true to her new name, Crossrage, and was swift and blunt with anyone who confronted her. She was soon given the rank of Guard, as somehow they saw it a necessary rank. She never knew why. And then. . . one day while keeping to the outskirts of the borders, as she always does, she saw him. A wolf, lean and sly. Not one of the pack. She kept low, sneaking up on him. But to her surprise he had also noticed her and attacked her simultaneously. She rolled him over, asking who he was. 'A spy.' he said, almost too pleased of himself. Curious, and almost delighted by his answer, she released him, only to sit down. This was her chance, to get back at the pack that had slain her kin. She offered him her intelligence, as being a member of the pack. 'Oh really? And what would you get?' He was suspicious, but he obviously trusted her because he didn't leave. Her family, murdered by their own pack. She wanted to get back at them. He seemed to understand, and so they set up multiple meeting dates, as to discuss anything new that Crossrage had to say.
For weeks upon weeks they would meet, in the most secluded parts of the territory. Crossrage would share what she could with him, trying to tell anything that might come of use to him. She never learned of his pack, but she wasn't all that curious. If they had sent a spy, then thy must be enemies with the Blackbloods.
And again they met, a cloudy day with a thick overcast and the usual high heat. The male was near the borders, and it was more than easy for Crossrage to track him. She already knew what his scent was, so now she knew who she was looking for. 'What have you got to offer me this time?' He asked, and Cross was more than happy to share as she sneered, her eyes shining with surpressed knowledge. She spoke in silence with him, keeping to the shadows as much as she could. But what she wasn't counting on was being caught, as she would. Nighteyes, a scout-in-training at the time, was on patrol. He caught an unfamiliar scent, mingled with one he had scented several times within the pack. And there they were, talking, slyly. Alarmed, he yelped in surprise, only to catch the two wolves' attention. The male darted, fleeing the scene before Night could catch a good look at him. And, almost instantly, Crossrage set after her packmate. She couldn't let him squeal! But Nighteyes was too fast, more out of fear and shock, and fled before she could reach him.
As she returned to the heart of the packlands, she was greeted by the fierce pounding and snarls of the warriors. They attack her, scratching her belly and her back and neck. . . anything they could. Since they were still packmates, however, several of them couldn't find the heart to actually kill her. She lay mangled, blood dripping from her scars as she struggled to keep herself up. Soon Rhinjin approached the scene, his face grave and spine-tingling. 'You traitor! How dare you come back, as if seeking a packmate's welcome! Leave! You are no member of this pack! You are nothing but dirt! Get out while you still have your life. . .' And with that the warriors chased her, and chased her until she reached the borders. She yelled back at them, filled with fear for her life and anger, that she was no longer a part of their pack by her own choice! Exhausted from the brutal beating and her heart racing as she fled for her life, she looked back. Back at the life she once lived, the pack she hated so dearly. And yet there was some sadness lingering among her. She had no one now. . . nowhere to go to. No one to see. . . But she would get her revenge, she wasn't finished just yet. Warped by her loathing to the Blackbloods, she dropped the name Crossrage, and took her title as Hysteria, once again.
Days and days passed, and soon she was in neutral territory. She was fine, or so she thought. Her rage and hatred towards the Blackbloods rose by the hour, and there was nothing that could stop that. She took a quick stop by a lake, bending down slowly to take a sip. And then she saw it. Her tattoos. Markings of her enemies. Enraged beyond belief, she snarled deeply, her throat aching as she roared intensly. Her vicious call echoed through the territory, and attracted a wandering sabre. He approached her, almost cautiously. 'Are you alright, miss?' Suddenly, the she-wolf snapped at him. Her eyes were wild, her pelt bristled as she panted her anger. She demanded that he scratch her! 'What. . ?' He asked, a bit frightened of what she had required of him. She repeated it, fumed, telling him to take away the dreaded markings! He winced, slowly approaching her as she lowered her head in preperation. He gulped, too nervous to do this. She would be angry, no doubt about that. He closed his eyes and slashed out. Growling in the sharp pain, Hysteria gripped the ground with her thick claws. She glance over to the lake, seeing the results. Barely anything! The tattoos were still there! Infuriated, she growled and barked with rage, charging at the sabre as he fled.
No one understands her, and no one ever can.
Driven by rage and the desire to show that damned pack that she wasn't going to be worthless without them, she headed for the marshlands. There she fought and conquered for territory, where she established the Corrazine Clan. Leading as the Halamine, she led a mass acceptance, observing and judging as several creatures came to test their strengths for her. One of them, Riocard, seemed to have a clever mind about him, and knew how to behave. Good. A few suck-ups were there, and she paid them little mind. They weren't worth any attention. But one wolf stood out, Hortense. This fool of a wolf ventured in with what seemed to be Blackblood tattoos. Enraged, Hysteria sent the other recruits to rid that mongrel of them. If he wanted in on the Clan, he had to be presentable, right? One of the suck-ups claimed the right side of his face, and an opportunistic pup came charging in on the scene, claiming the left side in haste. Intrigued, Hysteria learned this pup to be Grette, an illiterate though very unique pup. Some wolves chased out, and others let in, the acceptances closed hastily.
But time was not on her side, and within two weeks, a huge flood swept through her lands. With the territory having been so low in elevation, she had no choice but to flee the land. Others did so, as well. Corrazine was gone.
Disappointed and disgusted, the ex-Halamine treaded through neutral lands for a couple of weeks before returning to the marshes. But this time she didn't try to raise Corrazine back up, no. This time she sought acceptance to Saboro, the vicious red-tattooed wolves. But they weren't Blackblood tattoos, thank the alphas. These were tattoos of respect and rank. At acceptance, Hyss was met up with none other than the Queen, herself. Sabora Halberd. Her pups soon accompanied her, their savage little red eyes watching eagerly. Waiting for a bloodbath, were they? Words were exchanged, and before Hyss could be accepted, the Queen made sure she knew that she was no longer a Halamine. A quick slash, the Queen took a bite above Hysteria's left eye. Another scar. But she was accepted, now a Slab of Saboro.
Intent on making herself useful, as the Sabora had said in acceptance, Hyss went straight to work. She went to the Sentry Recruitment. Arriving late, she was on the immediate disapproval of the Saborakos, Greyblues and Flynn. Their command was simple - strike and kill the recruit who spoke with disrespect. Hysteria gladly obliged, slashing him across the neck and snapping her jaws shut on the left side of his face. Just as the Queen had slashed her face. This fool would pay. Others joined in, and the fool soon lay limp on the ground, bloodied and broken. Dead. Ranks were passed out, not to Hyss, however. Though she received a compliment from Greyblues on her attack, her tardiness was her fault. Disappointed again, Hyss sulked off, desperate to prove herself worthy of a rank. Worthy of Saboro. Useful.
About a week after that, having wandered through Saboro's territory, ring ii. She hunted frequently and avoided everyone at all cost. She could feel herself slipping, her desire to be powerful. Her once proud, dominent attitude. Her cruel and snappy nature. It seemed to be disappearing. No purpose. But Halberd crossed her path again, and asked curtly 'what the fuck she'd done for the pack'. Hyss stared her down for a bit, before replying that she hadn't done much, and been rejected as a sentry. A minute or so of awkward pauses, and the Sabora walked towards her, a low growl in her throat. She told the Slab that perhaps she could prove herself a worthy Sentry, and promoted her to such rank. A snappy bark towards the face again, and the Sabora meandered away.
Hyss is now determined to make herself useful, but she can't find her fire. She feels too desperate... Still, she works her duties out, meeting up with a few members, Dacki and Sanuye, and fulfilling her Sentry duties. She ran Cutter's acceptance, encountering Roger in the process, and the recruit's judgement still waits...
Other
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[¤--Quote :: "Screw you, I'm better."
[¤--Design (c) Akante.
[¤--Character (c) Akante.
[¤--Based Off Of Akante.
[¤--Profile (c) Simulizi.
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