Niqolairi -- Male -- Maned Wolf

♕ Niqolairi

♕ TRAITS

♕ OTHER INFO

APPEARANCE

Standing at nearly three and a half feet at the shoulder with an extra seven inches of ear alone, Niqolairi is nothing short (pun intended) of a lanky beanpole. Near comically long, black socked legs meet with a streamlined body wreathed over in beautiful red fur. Halfway down his tail, warm hues give way to snowy white, while his spine and neck are cut across by a thick ruff of raven black. Such is the namesake of his species, as the mane he bears can make the already giant Niq appear even taller when raised at will. Deep, sparkling blue eyes add a touch of further color to the already prismatic wanderer, set even in a slender head almost matched in size by attentive ears.

SOUL STONE

Niq's stone is still in its beginning stages, merely a Pente, which is fine by him. His main concerns are keeping it on while encumbered by pups and cubs. Wrestling, journeying, and bedtime are all threats to any binding he may try to use to keep his stone with him, heavens forbid bathtime's wrath. The best he can manage is to keep it tightly bound about his upper left foreleg just over the knee, out of the range of head bumps and any sudden attacks, by a long length of scrap fabric wound repeatedly around it and tied as often as possible. It still retains a setting from his old pack, but such is merely used for further stability now.

PERSONALITY

It would be impossible to guess at how Niqolairi could have come to be an outcast. He's youthful, full of energy (has to be, to tend for so many children), friendly, and gives everything he has to those he cares for before even sparing a thought for his own well being or needs. He's quick to crack a joke or toss a quip if he thinks the recipient will take such in good taste, and has smiles enough for all his wards and then some. It would seem a pointless task to bring Niq down, but really, who would want to? He's compassionate to a fault and, above all, wishes only to better the lives of those he comes across.

HISTORY

Nothing could have been more perfect than the lot Niqolairi had been given. He was a lucky member of a tight-knit pack, pup of loving parents and a close sister, smart, fast, skilled, allegedly funny depending on who you asked and, by the same conditions, rather attractive. He was trained early to help in any way he could, eventually joining the ranks of the scouts who welcomed him with open hearts and no small amount of friendly teasing. It was there that he met his mate-to-be, the main culprit of the well-mannered abuse. Their partnership became something far more binding after one too many enjoyable outings. Neither of them complained.

Nothing could have been more perfect than the young couple's blossoming new lives. They had family to spare, the blessing of all parents and their fellow scouts, an enthusiastic welcome into the new ranks of betrothal. It was meant to be, they agreed. A beautiful match, a stunning future... and a litter on the way. A glowing mother and a father who could barely keep his feet on the ground through the ecstasy of the promise of children. The two agreed on continuing their duties until Helanah deemed herself ready to rest. After all, how could they resist further time alone? Just a few more outings before settling down in the heart of the pack to care for themselves and their soon to be family.

Nothing could have prepared Niqolairi for the decimation of everything he had come to cherish.

They had agreed, as they often did, that this would be their final task, their final night away from the pack. The beginning weight of pups was visible. What better time to start work in a different direction? One outing earlier lie the answer in hindsight. Nothing was different, nothing could have warned them of the ambush. Just a simple, chaotic shot in the dark, by the dark. Seekers. One dreamy step, Niq trailed along just behind Helanah. The next, his paw stuck and his throat closed tight. He couldn't warn her of the shadow which pooled over her unsuspecting form. He couldn't scream when it plummeted in a lethal jagged strike into her back. He couldn't look away from the ripping and the tearing and the screeching. Helpless. Useless. Only when the light left her eyes was he able to rush to her side, try desperately to wake her, pleading and sobbing, unable to comprehend what he had just lost.

Nothing could have been worse. Yet worse it became.

Some thought him a coward, too lost in his own fear to help his own mate and pups. Some thought him incompetent, leaving her in their mission to fend for herself. The worst accusations were those suggesting he had had a paw in her murder, or perhaps conducted it himself. For the sake of the pack and at a cost far less than what the seeker had exacted, he was given a choice: become an omega, or leave. The choice was simple. How could he live among the faces which had been next to hers? The faces which had once smiled upon them, only now to scowl and jeer and accuse him of carving out his own heart. Exile was the obvious answer. The one with such a bright future was left to wander in the uncertain void darkness had left him.

Yet still he flourished, in a way. He would not wallow in the scars of his past, instead choosing to carry them onwards with him and act as his banner, his motivation. In her honor, Niq set out to help those like him, left with nothing in the throes of shadow, the outcasts, the ones without family of their own. Orphans were taken in no matter their marks or stature or past, be they cub or pup. If they had no stones, he acted their parent and fetched them, cared for every bump and scrape and head cold as if they were his own children. They were his children. He couldn't see them any other way.

Nothing could have been worse, and yet from rock bottom Niqolairi forced his way back towards the light.

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS & THQ