.:Braeden:.

Subject: .:Braeden:. Mon Aug 17, 2009 1:51 am

X.General Information.X
Formal Curse: She was never given a name, but she has dubbed herself Braeden.
Title[s]: None.
Alias: She has only heard the words 'bait' and 'meatsac' shouted in her direction.
Decent: Arctic Wolf / German Shepherd
Age: 2 years
Gender: Female
Persona: Braeden, though good at heart deep, deep down, has been deeply scarred by the events that have occured in her life. Being born into darkness, she has seen little of the outside world except when occassionally set free to fight for her life and a chunk of meat. She trusts nothing and takes whatever chance she can to eat, behaving savagely towards all that surrounds her to ensure her own survival. She has never known compassion, and therefore does not know the feeling. For now, all she knows is hatred and violence, and she does not know what will happen when she meets a stranger. At random, she tends to go through peculiar episodes of psychotic attacks.
Heart: She knows nothing of the world she now lives in, so there is no way to know what truly lies at her heart.
Motto: Don't trust anyone.

X.Physical Traits.X
Peltage Hue: Braeden has some basic grays and creams running through her fur, as well as a rusty brown colour along her back and sides. All throughout her fur, and upon her once beautiful face, are deep, ugly scars gained through the hardships of her entire, miserable life.
Occualr Hue: Her eyes are a dark, intense shade of auburn.
Stands: 28" at the withers.
Weighs: Her healthy body weight would be roughly 95 lbs, though in her current condition she is a mere 59 lbs.
Form: Braeden is tall and lean with wiry strength in her limbs, with a long, willowy tail streaked in blacks and grays. The rims of her eyes are pigmented black, giving her an even more intense look that really contrasts her coat. She has a long, narrow snout like that of a Shepherd, and very tall, pointed ears.
Physical Distortions: Besides a multitude of scars, there is nothing particularly unusual about her form (although she is currently highly malnourished). Her mind, however, often suffers flashbacks of the images seen during the episodes endured after being injected with multiple different hallucigens.

X.Family Tree.X
Sire: Her father was completely absent from her life, due to human interference.
Dame: She remembers her mother's sweet scent as a very young pup, but she was never able to see the woman.
Brothers: All she can recall are warm bodies next to her after birth, but she never saw any of them.
Sisters: Again, she was never able to see any of them, though she remembers their warmth.
Partner: None. She is not aware this sort of bond exists.
Whelps: None.
Challengers: She has come into physical contact with so many challengers that she is lucky to even be alive today.
Minions: Though he is not technically her follower, another (smaller) escapee dog travels with her from a distance, and she tolerates this because he does not compete with her for anything. He is mute due to abuse, so, as a result, they have never conversed and she does not know his name, if he has one.
Rank: None yet.

X.Background.X
Life Story: Braeden has been deeply scarred by the events that have occured in her life. Being born into darkness, she has seen little of the outside world except when set free to fight for her life and a chunk of food. She trusts nothing and takes whatever chance she can to eat, dominating all that surrounds her to ensure her own survival. She has never known compassion, and therefore does not know the feeling. For now, all she knows is hatred and violence, and she does not know what will happen when she meets a stranger. At random she may go into seizure, or peculiar episodes of psychotic attacks.
History: She was born into darkness and has never seen any of her family. The only things she has seen are angry humans screaming and hollering, and other starving dogs fighting for their life and a tiny scrap of food. As a youngling, she recalls often being thrown about by the scruff, being called 'bait' or 'meat bag'. She was often thrown into the pit to provoke and train other starved canines to behave viciously, so that they would put up a violent fight with more threatening opponents. As she grew, she was put into the same position as these older canines; fighting younger and smaller animals for a measly morsel of food. After that, she was chained back in the dark, cold and hard basement of some cruel human's home. The place reeked of filth and wasting flesh, but Braeden did not know of any place different, nor better.
While lying alone in the dark, chained to the wall, she often heard the crazed shrieks of another canine; she seemed to be shouting the name 'Braeden' constantly, while the scent of her mother wafted into her nares. She figured that it must be her mother shouting her name, but to no avail. The canines were never allowed pleasant contact, so Braeden never bothered to try to escape and speak to anyone, even in the dark.
Finally, one year passed (one that seemed an eternity), and a humane society was to raid the home that Braeden and the others had been living in. She was freed from the chains and rescued to a shelter. She had never known such kindness from humans in a place like this, but it was all to come to an end only short months later. Despite her behavioural issues, a man of seemingly practical ethics decided to adopt her. Braeden went home with few struggles, but was unpleasantly surprised when she saw what her new owner had in store.
He, like her first owner, kept her restrained and in poor health, prodding her with needles that made her feel most delusional. There were many attempts at escape, on the rare times that she was permitted into the yard, but she was always much too woozy to get far before the trained guard dogs caught her. For a time she gave up, and gave in to the lifestyle that was now hers, until at last more decent humans intervened. However, this time she was not willing to go without a fight, and despite her condition she fought and she fled, making her way to the wilds, awaiting what sort of cruel fate might now take her.
Place of Birth: In somebody's cold, dark basement.