Callista Autumn - Werewolf

Name: Callista Autumn

Nickname: Cal or Cali, if she allows you to

Age: 3,421 | Looks 28

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Straight, for now

Occupation: Police dog handler and volunteer at the zoo

Appearance: The natural expression of her eyes, face and demeanour is of strength. Quite a tomboyish female, she has no muse for labouring over her appearance so her hair is kept short and styled so that the front sweeps back with flare. Although she takes no time for caring over her clothes or hair, keeping fit and in shape is high on her priorities. She works out often and has the body to show for it. Her figure is very trim and toned, though since she doesn't reveal much of it, others may be surprised at her strength. Belonging to the race that she does, her olive skin bears no scars or bruises, remaining a blank canvas except for some light freckles on her cheekbones.

All her clothes and accessories are dark in colour; it wouldn't be sensible for someone who spends most of their time outdoors to wear lighter outfits. Typical casual attire would consist of black jeans, grey plaid shirt and a pair of dark converse-style sneakers. For exercising she wears shorts, t-shirt and training shoes. If there ever was an occasion of formal dress it is most likely the Werewolf would slip into a flowy, floor-length dress, her favourite style being that which looks torn. The lack of imperfections on her inhuman skin allows for no cosmetics, though whenever the need arises she does apply some deep plum or raven eye make-up. She prefers not to wear jewellery, but sometimes wears small stud earrings and short necklaces with various charms and pendants that she likes.

When in primal form, it is as if all the frustrated anger dissipates. There is no fire in her eyes, instead just a calmness and a bright twinkle. However, it would be foolish to presume she is safer to approach when she is the beast. Standing with canines and claws a good five inches long, Callista is more than capable of killing almost anything if she feels it is necessary. Muscles are more apparent along her limbs and torso. Her pelt is a light bronze, thick yet neat, with fuller fur in a ruff around her neck and shoulders. A fairly short and well furred tail hangs at the bottom of her spine. The creature's face is almost exactly that of a large wolf's, with the exception of her brown eyes.

Human Photo:



Race: Werewolf

Rank Requested: Beta

Specialization: Shifts into a beast

Primal Form Photo:



Height: Human Form: 5ft 8in | Primal form: 11ft 2in on hind legs

Weight: Human Form: 66kg | Primal Form: 166kg

Eye Color: Very dark brown

Hair Color: Human form: Light bronze | Primal form: Light bronze with sandy highlights

Identifying Marks: Human Form: Short hair and toned body | Primal Form: Ruff of fur around her neck and a very wolflike head

Face Claim: Emma Watson

Personality:  The female Werewolf has a tomboy attitude in the sense that she does not behave in a feminine way, nor will she give extra respect or be submissive to men simply because they are male. Instead, if anyone wants her respect or support they have to prove themselves worthy or she must feel like she owes them something. She is confident in her capabilities and anyone that challenges that will quickly be dismissed with a stern look, or worse if she's in a particularly unforgiving mood. Most of the time she has an uninterested and bold facade because quite frankly she doesn't want to be approached by any creature that isn't a Werewolf. Full smiles are a rare occurrence since she doesn't believe there is much to be happy about and with over three thousand years of existence, she has seen many beautiful, tragic, disgusting and hilarious things so it takes something extraordinary to provoke extreme or even slight emotion, unless she cares about you. It isn't that hard to annoy her, since most people are annoying in her opinion anyway, but if she feels a person is trying to annoy her on purpose then she will deliberately not show it. Almost everyone in her life so far has disappointed her; she feels as though anyone she allows close to her will eventually let her down in some way so is apprehensive to make friends. One of the only people she does trust and follows willingly is Alpha Lucian. He gave her the power and strength she now possesses, no longer feeling vulnerable to the world. Callista has no interest for those she considers weak, incapable or arrogant and would gladly kill such a whelp to save herself and everyone else any future trouble. Although she may seem very antisocial and unapproachable, if you can handle her and prove yourself she is a very loyal, honest and protective friend, sympathetic even, and one who will always have your back until the moment you betray her (second chances aren't her thing). The beast does well in high ranks, for she is hardworking, determined, independent and yet pulls her weight to do the best for the pack and herself.

Likes:  

Dislikes:  

Habits:  Most of the time Callista can be found roaming the forests, swamps or whatever other secluded place lies within the Werewolves haven. This is because she tries to stay away from the non-beasts that annoy her greatly and the wilderness of the territory helps to keep her level-headed. During casual everyday life she walks with her hands tucked into her pockets and her thumbs hooked over the edge and her  stroll is confident but not overbearing. However, when she is angry she will furrow her brows and a deathly look resides on her face, in her eyes and is often accompanied by an intense, low grumbling. If extremely angry then it is likely she will shift into the beast. Naturally, she closely observes things as she passes by, assisted by her acute senses of hearing and smell and that she can notice even the slightest of movement with her hunting adapted eyes. Her hobbies are listening to music, hunting, using technology, drawing and making rounds of the territory to ensure all is well. If she is relaxing then she usually lays down and folds her arms beneath her head and her legs are laid out with only her feet crossing over; don't disturb her when she is like this or you may receive a slap, or worse. If she is unsure of a situation then she will fiddle with her necklace or run her fingers through her hair. When she is depressed, frustrated or not feeling quite like herself then she will often go on a hunt or exercise to release any pent up energy or will very rarely console with her Alpha. Socialising is not something she does. Once a week she will venture into neutral lands to buy what she needs.

History:  It was the time of Ancient Greeks. Living under the rule of a rich father was what most called idyllic. They imagined being bathed in riches and spoiled for choice in everything; but Ambrosios was not a generous nor pleasant man. No, he was strict, stubborn and unjust. His utmost priority was to feel powerful and he was very status conscious. Polymnia, was one of his two wives. She was kept very much as a slightly more important slave that paraded around with him and had to look pretty, but she wasn't to speak unless spoken to. Servants, he had at least thirty of those, particularly women which he used for his own pleasures. Ambrosios had made his money by inheriting land which he rented out to the local farmers and he had a business of breeding and training up horses for the Olympic Chariot Races then selling them to wealthy buyers prepared to spend a lot of their coins for one. Furthermore, he had a hobby, one that only the wealthy could partake in since it required much money to make it prosper. Gladiators. When his Gladiators won battles and were known as champions he could sell them on to others for a delicious profit. Even though he never did any labour he still harnessed all the cash that flowed in from his businesses, only giving out money to his workers sparingly.

A few months into the marriage with Polymnia when Ambrosios was aged thirty (which would be middle aged for an Ancient Greek) and Polymnia was nineteen, they discovered that she was pregnant and they hoped and plead to the Gods that the child would be male. They required an heir to his fortune and it was just generally easier to have a boy who would protect his family and look after them when they were elderly. Females were raised simply to be taught how to do the roles such as spinning thread and weaving cloth. Once they came of age at about fourteen years old they were married and it wasn't uncommon for her husband to be double her age or older even. A girl would then live with her husband at his abode so the girl would barely be seen again. The marriage was expensive for the bride's family for they were expected to pay a dowry to the groom's parents. A potential bride was assessed judging by the dowry paid, her skills in the feminine departments and her expected fertility. Overall, it was an unnecessary hassle to birth a girl. However, their prayers were ignored, as after the lady's labour, a good-sized, healthy little girl was born.

Ambrosios was completely disappointed, blaming his wife for he was never the one to blame for anything. He never had another child with her for fear of having any more girls. Feeling humiliated in front of the community, he considered dumping the newborn to the streets and leaving it for some lower citizen to nurture. But she carried his blood and anything that shared that of him was much too precious and destined for great things. When the female was seven days old her father finally named her Kallistê - meaning 'most beautiful'. It was a fairly sensible name to give to a daughter and that was his only reason for it. The girl never saw much of her father in her early years, though that was probably a good thing.

Polymnia and Kallistê lived in their own part of the large house and were allowed whatever they wished, paid for at their 'ruler's' expense. He did not mind as long as he didn't have to see them; they were worthless to him now that his other wife had provided him with three sons. The child was taught by her mother to do all the women's jobs as soon as she could walk and understand. But when she turned eight years old she admitted one night whilst her mother sang her to sleep that she wanted to learn the mathematics and literacy that her half-brothers were schooled in and that she hated wearing the feminine clothes and doing 'girly things'. The young mother smiled softly down at her child, tucking the long, soft brown strands of hair behind the girl's ears as she explained that it was not permitted for a little girl to be taught such things, but she would allow it for Kallistê as long as Ambrosios didn't find out. Inwardly, she hoped that the girl's dislike of behaving ladylike was just a phase and ignored it. A tutor was smuggled into the house everyday and no doubt a very bright, knowledgeable flame was sparked within her. The stubborn, horrid man never discovered his child's rebellious deed since the servants of the house assumed that whatever his family did was known to him and accepted, and he didn't keep tabs on what his money was spent on, only what money was coming in.

On the occasions where she was free from chores or tuition she enjoyed slipping out from the house and visiting her father's Gladiators at their training ground. Kallistê would spend hours watching their mock battles as they tested their strength and skill. Eventually the men came to accept her frequent visits and after her tenth birthday they even began to teach her some moves. Different Gladiators came and went as they were bought and sold so the only regular training she got was by the ones either too good to sell or not good enough. In her eyes, she was being treated as one of them and there was nothing more relieving after being shunned as a female for her whole life and not having any male influence. In their eyes, it was harmless fun to teach a young girl some fighting tips and it was beneficial to them to check their techniques when they demonstrated for her. Training with them and grappling with the heavy weapons and armour thrilled her, and she noticed herself getting stronger each week. Feeling strong and independent wasn't something she was familiar with but she loved it. Conversely, her mother was not so pleased and worried for her daughter. Polymnia had noticed her daughter behaving differently and acting more masculine over time.

5 YEARS LATER
By the time she was fifteen she knew she wanted to be a Gladiator. To fight against others of the same, or even wild animals and criminals. Once again, her gender prevented her from being free to do so. Sure, she was not capable of killing a man yet nor had she been trained to do so. The Gladiators had stopped training her after she had begun to learn how to inflict serious damage and she had told them of her career aspirations. Everyone had made an effort to hide all knowledge of the training sessions with the girl from Ambrosios, for they all knew how he would react. It was in light-hearted, general conversation that one of the Gladiators told his manager of how the daughter had said she wanted to be one of them. The other men laughed and joked about it, trying to quickly forget the slip up. But as expected, he was enraged. Kallistê had been rebellious and mocked him, his rules and his status behind his back. Furiously he stormed to his chariot and called to his men to ride sharply back to the house. Once there he marched along the corridors until he reached Polymnia's room, where she was quietly singing and repairing some garments. Ambrosios had barely entered the room when he started screaming and shouting at this wife, wanting to know how she had let this happen. He had tried his best to keep her behaving as a normal, socially acceptable girl, even keeping her from other children in case she was influenced by them. The woman knew better than to tell him that she knew nothing of it either and instead she silently listened to him. Ambrosios decided that the girl needed shaping up, fast, and so he decided to have her work as a slave and to be married as soon as possible.

Kallistê arrived home from her evening stroll to find her mother in tears. It troubled her greatly to see her normally calm and understanding mother in such a state of emotion. Placing a comforting hand on the shoulder of the only person she loved, she heard her mother explain how her father had arranged her to work as his servant and eventually be marriage to a good, wealthy man. Eyes widened in disbelief, the teenage girl's mind went blank as she sunk to her knees. It was a normal thing for a girl of her age back in that time, but Kallistê had not seen it coming. What made anyone think she ever wanted to get married? What gave her father the right to do this when he had been mostly absent in her life? Of course, it was simply the fact that he was male that he had the power to do so. The girl had inherited some of her father's traits and when she had thought over what was happening a furious anger overcame her. She cursed at her mother, interrogating why she had not tried to reason with him, why she was just going to let this happen. Seeing her daughter like that, obviously hurt and strangely behaving like a man, her father at that, frightened her terribly. "There is nothing I can do. He is your father and I am your mother. Kallistê, I can not dispute what he says" were along the lines of what Polymnia told her. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes to compose herself, she shook her head in disapproval and left the house and disappeared on the back of a well-bred strawberry roan mare that was in training for the chariots. She did not return until a few days later.

When she did finally return, all plans of her wedding had been arranged and the beginning feast and ceremony had been scheduled for that very evening. Everything she wanted in her life was not going to happen, she knew that much. If a woman wanted something she must have a man's permission. Trouble was, Kallistê did not wish for permission from anyone, she did what she pleased. But even she had to admit that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to get herself out of this situation. As the sun disappeared on the horizon and she was being made beautiful with fancy clothes and styled hair, silent tears fell upon her cheeks and dripped down onto her clothing. Too phased by everything to even think about wiping them away, she stared at herself in the full length mirror, studying every inch. It was true, she looked like a stunningly elegant lady, but really she was an innocent young girl who just wished to be treated for who she was, not as a woman. Her brows furrowed as she contemplated how very dishonest the whole situation was. Her father lied to everyone that he was getting her married because she needed to be controlled and behave as a normal woman, but it was really because she was embarrassing him with her ways and he cared only for his status. Her mother had convinced herself that this was the right thing, when she knew it wasn't. And whoever marries her thinks that he is getting a lovely woman who will comply to his every want, which she isn't and she won't. Kallistê sighed and turned from the mirror, exiting to the banquet hall as her eyes stared indifferently to whatever happened from that moment onwards.

13 YEARS LATER
Her marriage had been declined by the groom. That didn't make her any happier though. Him and his family had not been impressed by the dowry her father had offered and he could see that Kallistê was not wife material. She had sat still in her seat for the whole evening, completely uninterested in her surroundings or making an effort to help out. Ambrosios was not happy at all, being embarrassed yet again. As soon as all the guests had left he turned on Polymnia and Kallistê, beating them until his daughter had regained her senses and fought back, attacking him in a frenzy of every manoeuvre any Gladiator had ever taught her. He had returned to his chamber with more damage than both her and her mother had combined, that was certain. Years had passed and Kallistê was mostly left to her own devices so long as she did her work as a servant of the house. She would have left years earlier, if it wasn't for her needing to stay with her family so that she could take money when Ambrosios died.

Casually meandering around the couches, she filled the empty mens goblets with wine as they discussed matters and enjoyed the music provided by female flute players. It was another feast held by her father, this time to celebrate his eldest son being married. Kallistê knew not of her half-brothers names or lives but she knew that this one was two years younger than she, so he was twenty-six, and his new wife was fourteen. Good luck to her, she figured. Blinking and staring uninterestingly around at the guests, she lingered by the wall until she was required again, not behaving as a slave who hovers around trying to impress her master like some of the other women servants did. Though that was likely because her father sweet talked and did other business with them behind closed doors. Her mind drifted away to how much longer she would be kept like this, when it was reeled back in by one of the men who had expressed an interesting opinion on the current topic of supposedly intellectual conversation. It peaked her attention for this opinion was favourable to Kallistê, but highly controversial and incorrect to the other men. She observed him carefully with her dark, penetrating eyes, searching for if those really were his words or if the wine was talking. The dark hair and hazel green eyes were intriguing about him and his words appeared genuine. Men were more what she despised for their controlling and overly dominant nature to women, but this one was different. Consequently, she made sure to keep tabs on him during the night's events.

After rounds of wine and food, the guests were all in high spirits and many were dancing around the hall. Even the group of men had dispersed into the singing and dancing or indeed some had sneaked away with ladies for the night. Meanwhile, Kallistê was clearing the tables, going between the kitchen and the main hall as she collected the mess. Each time she entered the hall her eyes strayed around the room as she looked for the mysterious young man. When all that was left was for the remaining guests to leave, the young woman moved to the brightly lit torches attached to the walls around the room. Since the room did not need to be well-lit now she put out most of them using a vase of water. After killing the flame on one final torch, she turned around and was surprised to see the man walking towards her. Setting the water vase on a close table, she stared politely to him as he neared her and introduced himself as Lucian. He seemed a charming gentleman and this was definitely new to her. Everyone else was too engrossed with the entertainment to notice them speaking and her mother and father were nowhere to be seen, which they usually were in her life by now anyway. So she allowed herself to speak to this man, telling him anecdotes about herself and receiving some in return. It became apparent to the man that the woman was strong-minded and unhappy with her current life. Following a few hours of talking and getting to know each other, Kallistê realised it was time she headed back to the servant quarters to get to bed. As she turned to leave, the man gently took her wrist and leaned in close to her ear to whisper to her. She did not flinch, but stared calmly ahead as he told her of how he could help her. She expected something ridiculous or unwanted, like some sacrifice to the Gods or a marriage proposal. However, he reached into his clothing and withdrew a moderately sized vial. If she drank the contents then she would see improvement in her life, he said. If she should ever need any further help with this improvement then she could find him, he said. It was very secretive and could be a poison for all she knew, but to be honest with herself even if it was she had nothing to lose. Popping the cork from the vials mouth, she looked down at the contents before placing the rim to her parted lips. The liquid was a dark colour, almost black in the night of the room. As it slipped down her throat she recognised the slightly metallic taste and the thin-yet-thick warm liquid. It was blood. Swallowing the last drop, she then returned the vial to him, bid him her thanks and a farewell and then retired to her bed chamber.

The weeks following those events Kallistê fell very ill. She had a high fever and felt unbearably hot with sweat constantly dampening her skin. Incredibly sharp migraines stung her head and she felt sure she was going to die. Little did she know it was the effects of her body attempting to reject the Werewolf DNA that was spawning and taking over each cell she consisted of. After about a month of being bedbound, she awoke feeling completely rejuvenated. So suddenly the pain had gone and was replaced by a feeling of strength and power, like when she had trained with the Gladiators. That evening was a night of the full moon and also the night her father proposed getting her married again in fear she was falling ill and would spread disease in his household and she was leaving it late to get married and have children. In a rage, she sat on her pillows that served as a bed in her sleeping area, the anger boiling up more inside her until it spat out of the pan. Skin began to contort, bones and muscles enlarged and fur sprouted all over her olive toned body. She could not think through what was happening since her mind was blotted out with the intense pain convulsing through her. Screaming turned into growling, by the end of it she stood at over 11 feet tall. A foreign calm engulfed her as soon as the new form was complete. It was the first of many transformations over the thousands of years ahead.

Needless to say, following her first transformation Kallistê tore through the halls, her claws scratching down the tiled floors as she skidded around corners in search of her father. Furniture toppled over and many possessions smashed. The servants abandoned whatever they held, physically or conversationally and ran for their life. When she found him rising from his seat and attempting to escape when he heard the commotion, the hatred flashed behind her beastly eyes and she loped towards him. Towering over him, it was empowering to see his fear, to watch him tremble beneath her like so many had done to him. She locked her eye contact with him as she bayed like a hound in pursuit, the glint in her eyes showing the thrill coursing through her when he realised it was his daughter. "Kal-". He was silenced before he could finish her name, with a lashing of fangs and claws. Ambrosios was a bloody mess in a matter of seconds. The creature observed at how his body slumped on the floor then huffed in disgust and casually padded away. A fire had been lit within her.

2,000 YEARS AGO - PRESENT
The Greek lady knew not what she was and could only guess how she came to be the creature that she had become. After killing her father and before anyone discovered it was her, she took almost all the money from his savings and fled without looking back. Polymnia and anyone else she knew mattered no longer, they had all disappointed or betrayed her in some form, yet some part of her still did not wish for her mother to be in poverty so she had left a decent amount of money in a location where only she would find it. If her mother was intelligent enough she would take the money and disappear like Kallistê herself had done.

At the beginning shifting was out of her control, extremely random and excruciatingly painful, like being stabbed from within with a thousand daggers. With experience and acceptance from her body to this new form, she found that she only phased when very angry, upset, hungry or otherwise weakened and that she could almost ignore the pain if she growled and clenched her jaw. After transforming she felt at peace like she was a completely different being and she would try to stay in her primal form as long as possible. Possessing so much strength and being capable of doing much damage was great, but she never harmed a human from greed or abusing her power.

For over a thousand years she roamed alone, not wanting to be near people or having any real purpose. One priority was to keep her true identity hidden, people could not be trusted and could have her killed. Constant travel meant it was impossible for permanent job or relationships and her gender restricted which occupations were allowed. It soon was obvious that this beast was either incredibly long lived or immortal, she was leaning towards the latter after she had survived and completely healed following an attack by Vampire thieves which involved being bitten multiple times. She learned the Vampire scent and despised them after that. Eras passed, cultures formed, countries were discovered and languages created. Everything changed. And so did she.

A further thousand years later she reflected over things she lost: family, memories and money. The money she took had been converted into new currencies many times and she had little of what she started with. She also had to change her clothes and style with the times. It all helped to forget her past and there was nothing sentimental to be lost. The two last things that reminded her of her history was her appearance and her name. Long and bronze, her hair flowed down so the tips reached just below midway of her back. In a spontaneous and emotionless decision she cut it all off so it was a short "boy length". Content with the new hairstyle she kept it that length as it remains today. Furthermore, when Latin had come into existence, she changed her alias to the related name with the same meaning- Callista. She chose her surname because the Fall is her favourite season.

By this time Callista had travelled across oceans, through woods and over desert. Fulfilling her prey drive and hunger for meat as she went. It was on one hunting occasion when she was hiding in the shadows of an expansive forest. Breezes blew and whispered secrets as they brushed past her nose and furred ears. Many humans were within, hundreds in fact, and blood was being spilt. Intrigued and approaching closer, she could also sense the horses and the metal, plus the cries of battle and clashes of weapons could be heard. Her presence in the area had the equine beasts on edge and they were not following their riders orders. Keeping in the shaded foliage for cover, she studied the humans as they fought. Some looked terrified and traumatised, randomly slashing their swords around in panic. Obviously they died pretty quick. Others were determined and courageous like they were meant to be there and had clearly trained hard. One such warrior that caught her eye was a woman struggling with her steed. A woman? Perhaps things had changed since she last had been around society. Anyhow, the woman had the Werewolf's complete focus as she dispatched a few of the opposition until her horse reared and she was thrown off. Callista continued to watch without interfering to see how things panned out and how the lady would react as her horse bolted from the scene, she felt slightly responsible for the horses jumpy behaviour. The big wolf-like creature, that was she, involuntarily widened her eyes as a horde of the enemy men saw the vulnerable target of a woman on foot and moved towards her. To Callista's further astonishment the woman warrior bravely continued to battle as her supporting fellows fell around her. Impressive fighter she was, but one against many stood little chance. When the sword was plunged into the woman, the beast could so easily have turned a blind eye and walked away to fetch a meal. However, in that moment it was not just a war. It was a female being unfairly overruled by males and Callista knew and despised that all too much.

Suddenly furious, the creature leaped out of hiding and bounded towards the woman, covering eight human footsteps in each bound. At first none noticed her as they fought and suspected her as a horse. When she ran at tremendous speed and released a thundering snarl everyone in the vicinity fled, including the men that had attacked the woman, which was the desired effect. She chased the one who had stabbed the female and swiped at him with a clawed hand, gauging his side and sending him off his mount. It was all conducted in a blur before the injured lady could make sense of it. Once that was dealt with, she morphed into her human form and knelt beside the fallen soldier. Her breathing was shallow so something needed doing urgently. The bloodied sword which had wounded her lay on the ground and more blood poured out from the wound. How could she save the girl? Then it hit her. Save. She had been saved once by that man at the feast. He had given her blood to drink and it had made her who she was, what she was. Pieces fell into place and she realised that he was one of her. She could turn this woman as he had done to her and she would survive and heal soon. Without hesitation, Callista grabbed the sword and wiped it clean on her trousers then sliced into her own arm. Sure it hurt, but her race had a strong pain threshold and she would soon heal. Gently she lifted the warrior's head up and held it in her palm, prying her cold lips apart with her free hand, the blood dripping down the hand from her cut. Then she pressed the bleeding gash to the lady's mouth until enough had been consumed. Carefully she set down the courageous warrior's head to the ground and backed away before she could reopen her eyes. She knew not if it would work and probably would never know but it didn't really matter to her. The only reason she had rescued her was because she was impressed by the woman and wished more people could be like her. Even if the stranger did survive, she knew Callista's face and could set a mob hunting for her. It had been her only act of kindness and she hoped she wouldn't regret it.

After that, the Werewolf had continued to travel, this time searching for the man that had changed her. He had answers to her questions and she wished to know, he had told her that she could find him if she needed to. Plus she just knew he was different from every other man. Her memory failed her of his name but if she ever saw him again she would know his face for certain. Besides, she had tired of concealing herself from everyone and needed to be around someone who was the same creature as her and knew what she was so she could be free to be as she pleased. He could also have changed more people. Could there be more of her kind?

Father: Ambrosios | Status: Dead - murdered

Mother: Polymnia | Status: Dead - disease

Siblings: Three half brothers | Status: All Dead - battle, old age, disease

Spouse/Mate: N/A | Status: N/A

Offspring: N/A| Status: N/A

Pets: Name | Breed | Status: Alive/Dead/Lost/Unknown

Other Important People: Lucian and Sydney | Status: Alive

Joining Keys: 'for us they come' 'in the shadows we hide' 'from them' 'we run' 'defeat is not an option'