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mule-guts — SA | Wolfe | WIP
Published: 2016-11-28 18:30:01 +0000 UTC; Views: 466; Favourites: 16; Downloads: 1
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Description
[ASTRAL TRACKER] | [CS AND FVR TRACKER] | [ACCESSORIES BAY]
Though he may bark, it is his bite you must watch
General
Name: Elouan "Wolfe" Berthou
Nickname: nothing less you have a death wish
Age: 53
Gender: Cis-male (he/him)
Breed: American Cream Draft x Breton x some lighter breeds Gyrfalcon Pegasus
Color: Perlino Splash w/ Bend-or spots
Ee/Aa/CrCr/nSpl/Height: 18hh
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Romantic Orientation: Heteromantic
Voice Actor: Lance Reddick as Commander Zavala in Destiny
Patron God: Kaia
------Talent:
------Blessing:
------Blessing:
Herd Affiliation: War-Forged
Rank: Stone Circle
Familiar: None
Relationships
Parents:
Hugh | Breton Mix | Pegasus | Raider Stationary Merchant | Father | ALIVE
Ersa | American Cream Draft Mix | Common Horse | Weather Witch Stationary Merchant | Mother | ALIVE
Siblings:
Baldwin | Brother | Common Horse | 51 | Shield | DECEASED
Osgar | Half-Brother | Hippocampus | 47 | Raider (Sea) | ALIVE
Inga | Sister | Pegasus | 46 | Culled from the family, Bloody Flanks medic | ALIVE
Other:
Kronos: Father-In-Law, Bronemy
Camellia: Mother-In-Law, Old friend
Miracosta: Hugh's 2nd wife (now deceased)
Significant Other(s): Saoirse, Cressida
Children:
Diarmuid | Son | Alive
Caspian | Son | Deceased at birth
Cassidy | Daughter | Alive
Wolfe may be a traditional man but he is loyal to his War Lord and Goddess, as well as, the clan of course. His loyalties lie strongly with the Forged and those who wish to disband them might as well be dead. (cough the bloody flanks cough) He has an active sense of what needs to be done for the whole of War Forged, or so he wants to believes. Though his allegiance is with Hira, he is not scared to vote against her wishes if he firmly believes they are uncalled for.
With knowledge and exposure as a previous raider, Wolfe has grown a thick, ever changing skin, so to speak. He goes into situations ready for anything and ready to change the gameplan if need be. Not much phases him anymore, however, he is quick to acclimate to an unforeseen problem. This also applies to physicality. He’s used to harsh weather, as any good Forged member should be. He’s the guy to take camping, can chop down wood AND you don’t need to waste a blanket on him. More blankets for you.
Wolfe has a Hard time accepting new ideas and being told what to do. It usually doesn’t affect his line of work, however, it can be seen. His wives usually get the brunt of the stubbornness, giving him a worthy fight back. His voice in matters is Strong and he knows how to use it to his advantage. Getting him to change his mind on anything is next to impossible. This boy’s bark is just as bad as his bite.
Family and the herd are the most important thing to Wolfe. When not dealing with the herds affairs within the Stone Circle, He keeps an extremely watchful eye over the everyday happenings of the clan. He’s to make sure that he takes care of issues himself or notify the necessary individuals of said issues.
Despite Wolfe having a special appreciation for Hira because she’s proved herself immensely, he still has a Very traditional view on how things should work. Her women empowerment ideals do not mend well with him. He believes women belong in non-political and non-warrior positions unless they’ve proved themselves otherwise. They are naturally too weak and emotional in his eyes. With raider training in his belt, he’s got a very “suck it up and move on” outlook on things and to him, women are not capable of such things.
Being a Man™, Wolfe’s protective nature tends to melt into something that of possessive. He’s got to know where his family is at all times, regulating where they do and don’t go. It makes him irrational at times, causing unnecessary outbursts if he’s unsure of the ongoings of his wives, children, and those he holds close. He always has a say in something, even if it doesn’t necessarily pertain to himself. He likes to to dominate situations in any way possible, sticking his nose dick into things he shouldn’t.
History Foalhood
Even though his parents’ marriage was that of an arrangement, they learned to set aside their differences and become a dynamic duo. Despite, Ersa being the first of two wives, they continued to stay strong together, building a sturdy foundation of love and support. Everyone who knew them would argue that they were the strongest couple in the clan. Not going to lie, they fed off it but kept it from their heads. His father was a raider, a little older in the game but never stopped packing a hardy punch. He was strict yet understanding to a point, other raiders found him enjoyable to work with. Mother on the other hand, was the one to look out for when you did something wrong. She held the metaphorical whip and you were crazy to talk or fight back to her. Their first son, got the most of it. They wanted the absolute best for him. Eluoan, or now known as Wolfe, was the first born between Hugh and Ersa. A strong boy straight from the womb, which pleased his parents Greatly. They knew from the beginning he would be important.
Being the first born of a raider, Wolfe had eyes on him from his father to follow in his footsteps. The colt had no objections. He was rowdy, ambitious, a true War-Forged colt. The training started early, within reason of course, Ersa would have Hugh’s neck if their son were to be lost at such an early age. Nevertheless, it never stopped this young boy from childishly sparring with their father. Small whinnies and the deep, gruff voice of the raider could always be heard from the backyard of the family’s small cabin high on Mt. Skeldr. Those noises only grew louder with the birth of Baldwin, another strong colt from Ersa’s loins. And, louder still within the coming years.
Hugh was arranged to yet another wife, Miracosta. She was a quaint little hippocampus mare, Caenna-to-be turned stay at home mother. Needless to say, she wasn’t quite happy with it. However, she stayed true to the marriage, baring yet another son to add to the mix. Osgar was born with the scent of war on the horizon. With their sister, Inga, following a few months later. Strong-willed Garok preaching unity and fighting to conquer the clans, driving members to unrest. The leader of the Dog’s Fang clan, Baron, had no opposition to coming together with other clans. His idea was that with the unification, it could only help their small clan. Baron chose to fight alongside the decisions of Garok, taking his strongest raiders into battle to bring together the Forged. The Dog’s Fang clan was known for their strong raiders, because of a particularly ruthless style of close combat, reminiscent to that of a dog. It could be picked out in a heartbeat on the battlefield. But, that was not for what they were named. A product of selective matchmaking within the clan, resulting in larger than normal canid teeth. In modern days, it is a dying trait but those who are blessed to be born with them are seen better than those who are not and are trained to use them to their advantage.
Nevertheless, during the following years of bloodshed, Wolfe and his siblings never stopped learning, training, being better than before with every lesson and sparring. Inga on the other hand, was left with the wives to learn Woman Things. She was a rebellious little filly from the start and not being able to learn like her brothers only fueled her rebellion. She always begrudgingly followed along, slipping snide comments wherever she could. Not surprisingly enough, Inga was always the one to pick fights with her siblings. Causing ruckus whenever she could, Wolfe was always the one to settle the discourse. No matter how childish the situation was. He was there to knock toddler sense into his kin.
Adolescent-Teenager
The war of unification began to dwindle, allowing for more time spent outside sparring. Wolfe was 14 and the war was slowly dying out. Garok had succeeded in bringing the clans together, albeit forcibly, but together nonetheless. Hugh was gone with the other raiders of their clan for years, and every year Wolfe begged his mother to fight with them. He begged and begged, turning to anger when she said no. He so desperately wanted to help his family and clan, it was unfair! He was a young MAN, perfectly capable of fighting. Obviously.
Another year passed, returning Hugh back to his family, battered but alive. Though he would never admit it, he was proud for his son to follow in his deep footsteps. Wolfe had grown to 15, officially declaring apprenticeship with the raiders. He was excited, and a damned hard-headed fool. He went into the apprenticeship believing it was merely fun and games, despite his teachings. It wasn’t long before the boy was knocked out of his blinding elation. He was beaten up and knocked down more often than not. His father constantly told his colleagues to. “Fuck up my son. If he can’t handle it, it’s not my problem.” It was infuriating but, only drove him to be better.
The pegasus boy trained harder, studied longer. His young reputation grew quickly with him. Wolfe began to flourish into the role of a raider, growing a small, honestly insignificant, following at the young age of 18. He became something of a leader within his own little band, made up of mostly brute raiders but their medic, a younger mare who was more than capable of holding her own. It was a band that raided many and fought valiantly. With this band, he earned his new name.
It was meant to be a simple raid on a small vagabond camp just outside the farmers’ lands but it wasn’t just that. The vagabonds were expecting them, laying in wait hidden in the shadows. Upon the raiders’ arrival with snow afoot, there was no one residing at the camp. There were tents pitched and a fire crackling but no vagabonds as scouts had proclaimed. It was eerie and strange. Before Wolfe could suggest they leave, the others moved on within the camp investigating for goods and wares. The male proceeded after them, cautiously, but not cautiously enough, in the blink of an eye the group was ambushed. It was an even-in-number match, however the vagabonds seemed older and stronger. The fight was bloody, staining the pure white snow that laid beneath the stampede of hooves. Wolfe wielded no weapon but his own body using it just as he was taught back with his clan. He was able to pin his combatant but not before his face and shoulder was slashed with a blade that the vagabond handled. With his comrades running off the rest of the camp, Wolfe reached his toothed maw around the jugular of the other. They pleaded for their life, asking for mercy but the raider would not have it. In one foul pull, the vagabond bled out with their throat spat out next to their cold body.
Eyes glued to the scene, hearts raced loudly, almost enough to hear from across the camp. The group of matched members remained speechless as they looked on for a moment longer before one of them roared out. “Holy shit!! What are you? A wolf!?” Wolfe looked to him, blood dripping for his mouth and before he could reply, they were chanting “Wolf” like a team of high school football players. It was then he was deemed, The Wolf, later to be formed into an actual name.
Adult-Current
Wolfe spent many years with the raiders making a name for himself which had passed amongst them, as well as, his home clan. The Wolf Who Tears Out Throats. It had become, more or less, his signature. Anywhere he went on missions, you would know. Anyone who were to follow would find vagabonds, traitors, even animals bleeding out, with their throats ripped from their bodies.
Everything was laying into place, his second eldest brother, Baldwin was promoted to a shield for his consistent bravery and loyalty to the War Lord. His half-brother, Osgar, a raider of the sea, mastering the tides and keeping the shores of Onea clear of savagery. Inga, on the other hoof, chose the life of a medic, not being able to fight alongside her brothers as she so pleased, helping on the battlefield was closest thing she could get. Though, her loyalties did not lie with the Stone Hooves. She wanted to break free from the Warlord’s reign, from her parents’ overlooking eyes.
A rebellion stirred in the south, the whispers of the Bloody Flanks attempt to siege shrouded the Stone Hooves ears, pulling the clan to ready themselves for war yet again. The boys, including their father, did just that. Wolfe remained loyal, fighting like the dog he was trained as his whole life. The Bloody Flanks attack lasted for far too long. So many lives were lost at the hands of rebel scum. One of those lives, his beloved brother and shield to Garok, Baldwin, but his life was not taken by just any Bloody Flank rebel. Baldwin and Wolfe fought close together (while their other brother fought on the sea) only to be separated by the chaos. The large pegasus fended off many Flanks, getting a moment to rejoice in his accomplishments. He wanted to share it, looking over to his common brother, only to find him slain with a familiar body over him. Those golden brown wings he knew so well, pulling a bloodied short sword from Baldwin’s chest.
Inga, the medic sister. The medic sister who just wanted to be seen and treated as her brothers were. Her pale brown eyes locked with Wolfe’s intense green ones. They were filled with ache and rage. How could she do this to her own flesh and blood? Her own kin? The raider was furious but before he could do anything, he was attacked at the flank, allowing for the escape of Inga. From that day on, she was culled from the family and he vowed to his father, with his sobbing mother beside him, that if he and his sister were to ever meet again, she would die.
The war ended with Garok’s daughter slaying the once great Bloody Flanks’ leader. A common sigh of relief was exhaled throughout the equines, at least, with the Dog’s Fang clan. Everything was settling for the better. Hira rose into her father’s place, though the detest was strong, especially from the raider who swore his life to the Forged. The place of the War Lord was not one for a mare. The ideas that ran through his mind first were along the lines of her being moody and too soft. However, she had more than proven herself, time and time again battling challenger after challenger. Wolfe admired that. She was the only living blood and to that, Wolfe swore himself loyal.
With age catching up to the raiding stallion, he returned home. His presence within the clan, and those around them, brought peace of mind. The respect they held for him and the work he did for the land of Onea was great. When he spoke, they listened. He stood aside Baron as his personal advisor, of sorts, helping with the decisions of what would be best for their dog family. Wolfe was in his 48th year, when he was voted into the Stone Circle. He became one of several voices, gladly yet dutifully acting as a check and balance to the War Lord.
After Wolfe’s promotion to the Circle, his (very) old friend Camellia offered her daughter as a gift. Though he fought her about it, as did Camellia’s daughter, a lot, he finally agreed. As a favor to his dear Mellie, he wed her wild child, Saoirse. It was not a pleasant beginning but through the years, they’ve learned from each other. With the euphorias of bringing in two healthy children into their world and the dreaded heartache of losing a third, the arranged couple learned to love one another in the purest form. The Wolf now lives out his old days, a husband, a father, but most of all a voice for the Forged.
Fun Facts:
- pinterest board
-playlist
-wing span is actually enormous
-built with a bit of a bull neck
-he is a Good Dad
-semi-homo/transphobic, doesnt Care but doesnt want to See it
-knows his way around a bow, hunts on the regular and takes his sons
-however his favorite way to battle is close combat
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Comments: 7
im wheezing i just
looked at the preview of this and thought he was holding a surfboard dsgsdg
👍: 0 ⏩: 0
he makes sure it's well taken care of
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
It's so fabulous. It should be illegal.
👍: 0 ⏩: 0
