Name: Tattoo
Age: 7
Gender: Brute
Family: None
Appearance: Tattoo is a strange wolf indeed. At first glance, you would think he is wet, and if you knew his personality, that wouldn’t be a surprise. However, dry or not, Tattoo has pure white fur that stands out in whichever way it pleases as if it were wet. He has long pillars that are firm and good for going long distances over a period of time. His tassle hangs down a little past his hocks and is much poofier than the rest of him. He has a long snout with coal black nares seated at the tip. Thick black lips are the entry way to his maw, lined with pointy white teeth. Auds are long and curved, and swivel at the slightest sound that reaches them. His mane around his face that makes his visage features stand out a little more than they already do. His orbs are gold, yes gold and rimmed in a thin line of black around the lids. So he sounds somewhat average right? Wrong.
On Tattoo’s left rump, he has a marking. Not just any marking either. A tattoo, hence his name. This Tattoo says 154. That was what number he was in the lab. The 154th creature ever there. This strange markings saga continues as well. Around his right eye, he has five metallic blue…well dots. These dots are studs and are metal however, and will never come out. There they shall always stay.
Personality: Tattoo has strong morals. One should not be killed unless they threaten your life or have done something so severe that their punishment is death. He likes to swim, oddly enough, and will lounge in water, given the time to. He respects those that are above him, whether they deserve it or not. If something is going on, and he knows about it; if it is harmful to the pack that he is in, he will go voice his concerns to the Alphas in private. Family is…well, was close to him, he doesn’t know if any of his family is alive any more. He is a fierce fighter when it comes down to it, and goes to conquer the enemy, always. Not necessarily destroy, but conquer suits him fine.
Tattoo is noble, and would never think about betraying pack or family. It irritates him that he cannot remember his true name, and longs to remember it or find someone from his past. He misses his beloved mate dearly, but is sure he shall never see her again. He wonders sometimes about his past, the things from the lab and such and things that he can remember from his life before that. He remembers that he was an Alpha and of the Trigal pack. Some things he remembers and some he was told by a fellow member in the lab when he got the chance to speak to him. He remembers killing his brother Ercash. And his mate and that she was pregnant. He wonders if he will ever remember it all or see anyone from his past.
He had pups one time, but knows nothing about them. He had been so happy that he was going to, and longs for them now. He is angered by a wolf in the pack that turns into a traitor, and believes that they should be punished. Punishment is something that should be enforced, at least in Tattoo’s world. He has good leadership qualities, and sometimes may take the position of ordering others around if a higher authority isn’t present. This could cause some problems from within, as not everyone likes to be bossed around by someone of their same superiority. In any case, he is a good wolf to befriend and a bad one to make your enemy.
History: Tattoo has a history like no other, but it started out, just as every other…
Tattoo was born into the Trigal pack, made up of twelve proud wolves and led by Alpha Grang and Alphess Flowith. He was spawn of the Beta Visor and Betan Siliphia. Visor is a smoky gray color, no other color at all on his body. Siliphia was mainly white with a black muzzle, brown and russet here and there on her fluffy body. He had four siblings, two brutes and two faes. His first born and eldest brother was given the name Ercash, and was an average colored gray and white wolf. Second born was his eldest sister, Ryine, a fae of white and gentle gray tones. Third born was himself, however his birth name wasn’t Tattoo. His original name is Docar, but he doesn’t know that, or remember that rather. Fourth born was his other brother, oddly enough a black pelted wolf by the name of Votage. Lastly was his runt sister, Sela, who turned out to be totally white like he.
They lived strongly and together, however there are always favorites among siblings and always those sibling quarrels. His favorite sister was Ryine and favorite brother Votage. He was in constant competition with Ercash and constant bickering, but they loved each other all the same. At about six months of age, their parents begin to train them for their Judgment Days on their first birthday. At this time, Sela became Subordinate, Ryine a Hunteress, Votage a Spy, Ercash and Docar both became Invaders.
Not long after this, they were rivaled for their lands and a war was held against a group of rouges that were trying to take over lands to become a pack. In this battle, they drove off the rouges and only lost a Subordinate in the battle. When Docar was at the age of two, Grang had passed away and Flowith stepped down from leadership, giving all authority and new Alpha titles to Visor and Siliphia. At this, they made further rank changes within their children. He became Beta and was happy about this. However, there were those angered by this…
Ercash stormed away, angered that his parents hadn’t made him Beta as the oldest son. Siliphia started to go after him, but Visor stopped her, as Docar was already loping after him. Once catching up, Docar found Ercash staring hatefully into the pond at his own reflection. He nudged his brother’s shoulder, and the wolf drew away with a snarl. “Leave me Docar.” He hesitated, but obeyed his sibling’s wishes.
Nothing important or anything worth mentioning happened for a while, so now we fast forward to the age of three. Docar is still Beta, with no mate. His parents are still the Alphas and Sela is Omega. Ryine became Gamma and Votage was Guardian along with Ercash. Ercash was always harsh and cold to Docar after the upping to Beta, and seemed so hateful towards him. This concerned the brute and he went to the Alphas.
“M’lord and lady, Father and Mother. There is a member within the ranks of Trigal that concerns me. Not only for my welfare and health, but for other members of the pack as well. I say this as your Beta and your son.” He said respectfully. They looked at each other and Visor nodded. “Tell us who this threat may be Docar.” The Alpha said. The white brute nodded. “It pains me to say that this wolf I consider a threat is one of our own Guardians and my brother. Yes, it is Ercash that is the hazardous one, and I fear that he may even resort to traitorship. I know this is painful for you, as it is I as well, but heed my words.” His bright orbs looked searchingly into his parent’s but their emotions were solidly blocked.
Visor frowned. “You accuse your own brother of this? What treachery within my ranks…my family. Never speak of this again, I won’t hear of it, but I will get someone to keep an orb on him, to please my Beta’s fears. Leave now.” He snorted with the flick of his tail. Not satisfied, Docar dipped his head and turned to leave, but looked back once more. “Not fears, but concern for the pack, M’lord.” He left.
Not long after, Docar and Ercash patrolled the borders together, especially near a new pack that they knew nothing of. Or so was thought. Wolven scent was heavy in the air, and they stopped, scenting the breeze. Suddenly, the Guardian stepped in front of the Beta. “Docar, you’ve always stood in my way you suck-up. I’ve been better from the start, yet you were favored. I was first born, yet who will become Alpha after Visor is dead? You. Filth.” He spat at the white wolf’s paws and Docar drew back from the saliva.
“Ercash, you don’t speak to your Beta that way. Secondly, how could you feel so towards your own blood?” Docar was truly incredulous. “And Father shan’t be dying anytime soon.” He glowered as realization struck him. “Will he, Ercash?” He growled slowly. The wicked sibling chuckled darkly. “Fool! You speak of my blood…my heritage blood is being spilled as we speak, Visor is probably in the fight of his life, and Siliphia will be forced to step down. How will you not become Alpha you ask? Well, simple. The next male is to step up and you’ll be dead, thanks to me, though they won’t know that.”
Ercash snarled and leapt towards Docar with his claws outstretched. The Beta met him in the air. Soon the battle was over. A strong wolf dropped the body of his sibling, though he in turn was torn up as well. Running as fast as his injured body would allow he ran towards the dens where he had left his pack in supposed safety. Ercash had allied with the new pack, who were blood lusting and went against his own family and pack…all for power! He came in to see the new pack prowling about, Siliphia snarling in a corner, some wolves dead, including Sela. Poor weak Sela. Docar shook his head. This was all the doing to Ercash. But where was their father? He swung his head about and saw a mass on the ground.
Disgusted, he charged. They had tortured his father! He drove them off, but Visor was already dead. He looked to see the remaining wolves circling some of the Trigal wolves, making them vow loyalty to the new pack. That or death. Among these wolves…Votage. He felt his orbs widen, and he shook his head. Votage looked to him and then back to the new wolves. He nodded in agreement to their ultimatum and Docar howled.
The other pack cringed at the ferocity of the howl, and then to look into the orbs of who issued that howl! Docar snarled fiercely. “Traitor! First it was Ercash and now you join the same who murdered your father and Alpha? Ercash brought them here to kill Father so that he could be Alpha after he killed me, yet you join them? Leave my lands flea-bitten scumbags!” He snapped at them and leapt towards them, and the pack left with their tails literally between their legs, bringing Votage and another with them.
Docar was devastated. A proper ceremony was held for Visor and Sela, and Ryine asked of their dead brother. “You said that Ercash was a traitor…did he bring them into the lands? Where is he now?” She snarled, ready to show just what was done to traitors, but stopped as Docar shook his head sharply. “I have killed Ercash—“ He stopped a moment as a mournful sound came from his mother, who he sent a sorrowful look. “And that I had to do, or it would have been me dead. As for his body…leave it. May the crows and vultures feast upon his unworthy corpse and the maggots crawl throughout it. The other pack won’t want it, and neither do I, though it pains me to say.”
And so it was. Docar reined the pack for one year, and his sister was the Betan. Docar had gotten himself a mate, and she was soon to give birth to their pups. Her name was Ahreld. Ahreld was a pretty little Mexican wolfess, shaggy coat and a black saddle patch on her back. She was lovely in everyway to him. However, as in many’s lives, tragedy struck. Men came. They entered the forest lands and made camps, disturbing the balance of prey in the woods and getting awful close to the dens at times. It seemed that this was their every intention…
Docar called a brief meeting. “We need extra patrols of stealthy lupes. Men are ravaging our lands. Keep an orb open for men, prey and other packs. All of these things will be moving about constantly. That is all.” He said and stepped down from his overseeing rock. He trotted merrily to Ahreld and licked her muzzle caringly. “And when shall the progenies be here my darling?” He asked with a glimmer of comic in his orbs. “You judge them already Docar?” The Alphess chuckled. “You expect much from them…soon though…soon.” He nodded. “I don’t expect that, I know they will be as so.”
All attention rapidly turned to the west. Crashing of underbrush was heard, and men’s voices. “Everyone scatter! Don’t stray far, and if they come…attack if you must!” The brave brute ordered. The Trigal pack scattered and hid in dens and tree-knob holes and some squeezed into old fox dens. Docar ushered his mate to a safe place and turned around at the sound of snarling to see one of his members ferociously attacking one of the men. Another man lifted a shiny stick and a loud noise echoed through the vicinity and the warrior fell with a whimper to the ground. He rose shakily and began to hobble off, his shoulder blade spewing blood. The attacked man shouted at the one who had the stick and then the accused looked startled.
The attacked man retrieved another stick and hit the poor member once again. This time, feathers seemed to protrude from the flank of the wolf and then he shakily collapsed. This befuddled the wolves that red and green feathers now came from a wolf, but little did they know it was a dart from a tribal blowgun that the men had purchased illegally. Outraged at this, Docar leapt forward and snarled, startling the men. They had wide eyes, and they were terrified, yet they gazed at him and spoke in whispers and such. Suspicious of their intentions, Docar growled and stepped forward. The man who had gotten yelled at started to sidestep to the left and Docar’s gaze followed. Suddenly, a pain like that of a thorn hit his rump and he turned his head sharply to see the red feathers sticking out. Numbness was creeping in every direction from the puncture and he began to feel dizzy. Still in fighting mode, he lunged for the man who had shot him. The other man leapt forward and bashed Docar on the head, knocking him down and unconscious. Everything went black as he mumbled. “Ahreld…”
***
The large white brute woke up with a start. He had a throbbing-tingling sensation on his left flank and turned to see a new odd marking. He blinked at it uncomprehendingly for a moment as his vision came into focus. He shifted uncomfortably on the solid earth beneath him. It was hard and cold. Bars were in front of him, behind and beside. Feeling panicked, he got up and thrashed about madly. All this succeeded in doing was injuring his jaws and becoming dizzy once more. Confused and defeated, he plopped down and put his head on his paws. “Where am I?” He sighed.
A new voice answered him with a chuckle. “Nice show, nice show, new fellow. You are in the humans place…indoors. Welcome to your new life. It only goes downhill from here. Experiments…exhibitions…it’s all wonderful.” The voice chuckled. The white wolf looked over at the strange new creature. “Ah, but about you. Who are you? I myself am Loalibo, a wallaby. You are a wolf if I’m not mistaken…seen a few of your kind in here before. I believe they all died though. Perhaps you’ll be a different one.”
The wolf raised his brow. “I am a wolf. Pleasure to meet you Loalibo. As for who I am…not even I myself know this answer. I remember not my name…or anything’s name. Where did I come from?” This troubled the white wolf greatly, for he knew that an eventful past lay in his wake…but he couldn’t remember it. “Well I certainly can’t tell you who you were or where you were from…you don’t remember your name at all then? We’ll give you one…I don’t suppose you’d like to be called 154 as it says on your rump there.” The white wolf turned his head to look at it. “154…no I suppose not.” “Whoa! Nice markings there around your eye, Mate! Not seen that mark. How about Tattoo then, as you’re riddled with them?”
“Tattoo? Tattoo…sure then.” He had no idea what the wallaby meant by markings around his eye, nothing was ever there except the white fur that had been there since his birth. His thoughts were interrupted. “You don’t remember a thing then?” Tattoo snarled at this. “No! And it troubles me greatly. I cannot remember my Mother, Father or sibling’s names. I know that I had siblings…but that is about it. Wait! Mate…I had a mate. And there were to be pups…Forget it. Tell me what experiments and exhibitions are.” Loalibo nodded and hopped forward in his cage.
“Well, we all get tested on. Injected with things of other species, an attempt to be perfected to the way that they want us to be. You’ll be changed before long…you already are a bit with those things that you’ve gotten on you around your eyes and your branding. But as for the exhibitions, they’ll take a few of us experiments and show us off to other humans…sometimes they get ribbons or money or new equipment. Most of us spend the rest of our miserable lives here. Most die from a testing gone wrong.” He said as if it were natural. He must have been there for a while, Tattoo concluded.
Tattoo snorted. “Miserable indeed.” The imprisoned wolf mumbled.
***
Docar, now Tattoo, awoke. He had slept, and still no more memory had returned. He felt completely ruined. In the distance, meddling with some cages, the brute spotted a man. He snarled deeply, startling the man who looked over with fear across his face. It faded however and a wide smile came. He said something illegible to Tattoo and then came over. The wolf glowered, daring (wanting rather) the man to stick his chubby little appendages in through the metal bars of the cage. See what he would come back with!
The man pushed a slab of meat in through the bars and refilled the stagnant water bowl. Tattoo sniffed disdainfully at the meat and turned away from the water. As it seemed that he would get nothing else, the ravenous animal scarfed down the slab of meat. It wasn’t that bad. He mused. The man came back and grabbed the cage forcefully. He grunted, the weight being more than he expected. However, he managed to get the wolf to where he wanted, and before he knew it, he was being toted away. He turned a circle and saw Loalibo stick his paw out of his cage and heard him whisper. “Good luck, Mate.” Tattoo knew not what he needed luck for, but he would soon know. Now he was in another new place; yet another room.
He blinked, looking around. Something familiar stirred in a nearby cage. A fellow wolf! Tattoo leapt to his paws and wagged his tail furiously, giving two sharp and excited barks. The wolf turned around and cocked his head at Tattoo and then smiled. “M’Lord! You’re alive!” Tattoo stopped at this odd greeting. What did he mean in calling him Lord? To say the least, Tattoo was a little freaked out. His tassle stopped wagging, and he stared in confusion at him. “What business have you calling me such a title?” The other wolf was the warrior that had battled against the men as well. He looked hurt and then sorrowful. “You cannot remember?” Tattoo shook his head. “I will tell you something that I’m sure will jog your memory, Lord. Ahreld. You loving mate.” Tattoo blinked, and then smiled with watery orbs as he remembered his sweet Ahreld. He would hold her memory closer than anything. “And I am Strigyt, a faithful Warrior of you pack. What of your name, do you remember?” Tattoo shook his head, eager to once again know his own dubbance. “No, but do tell on, good Strigyt.” As the warrior opened his maw, a man came in. Tattoo quickly and fiercely insulted the man with every insult he could think of mentally.
He looked to the both of them, and then strode towards Tattoo’s memory, the other wolf. He opened the cage and as Strigyt bolted out, the man put a swift and stern hand on the wolf’s back, grabbing a handful of scruff and fur, pulling the protesting animal backwards. He pulled something over Strigyt’s maw, and then clasped it behind his auds and under his chin. Tattoo dolefully watched as the wriggling wolf was hefted away. He felt so dejected right now. He slumped to the ground, remembering his sweet mate, now that he remembered her name and what she looked like. “Ahreld…” He whispered, simply the name of his love tasting as sweet as honey on his parched pink tongue.
He was running through a lush field of soft, green clovers. They were laughing merrily and frolicking with other members of the pack, but their faces and colors were blurred. But they soon faded away, and it was but he and Ahreld. As they flopped down by a cold and trickling stream, he heard the sound of children’s laughter. His auds perked up and he heard his mate’s voice. “Here come the pups Darling.” He followed her loving look to the underbrush and forms came forth, however, he couldn’t see them. They were merely gray blobs, no markings or coloration or faces. Terrified, he jumped up and scurried backwards.
Tattoo woke up, panting. As he realized it was only a dream, he sank down and whimpered. Why did no one say his name? Not even in the dream. He had dozed once more. The once Alpha felt so useless in the cage, nothing like he used to do. But what exactly did he used to do? Tattoo growled in uttermost frustration and then stopped as a large commotion was heard. Things were falling on the hard floor and they were leading Strigyt back to his confinements. However, that…wasn’t…Strigyt…was it? It couldn’t be.
Tattoo felt his orbs widen at the creature he saw before him. At first glance, you’d conceive it to be a wolf. However, you would double take at it, and then gawk at the thing before you. The wolf was taller than any average gray or arctic wolf would be and his shoulders were hunched. His orbs were large and dilated, with an enlarged snout. Two canine teeth from the bottom jaw went over the top lip, and the nares were odd-like. His auds seemed smaller, but this could just attribute to the longer muzzle. He would go into some convulsions at times, no telling just what was happening at these times. The twisted humans that have control of things past embryonic form now had mutated the poor brute, but something had gone wrong.
Tattoo winced at the sight. They shoved the wolf into his cage; obviously their experimentations hadn’t turned out totally as planned. They pointed to Tattoo and scooped him up before he had time to argue about it. He was now in another room. There was a slab in the center, with a bright light shining down onto it. A blue blanket and a series of tools lay about the immediate area. They placed the same thing around his maw and strapped it in, as they had done with Strigyt. He was held down onto the table, where an injection was given. He soon felt numb and sleepy once again against his own will. He fell asleep and the twisted humans went to work with their Pavlov techniques and technology and methods much more advanced than what we have available now.
Now, since there is no way that Tattoo knows what has been done to him, the experimentation will be told here. As he was given anesthetics and went to sleep, they pulled out the extractions that they wished to place in him, to change him to their wills. Now, they had extract of feline, and were to place it in a canine. They were fascinated and very intrigued at what the outcome of this would be. It went on, and Tattoo was placed back into his original cage beside Loalibo. He woke up and felt completely different.
He yawned, and shook his head, looking about. What happened to his vision? It was better…and hey, it was dark too, but yet he could see wonderfully. Tattoo wasn’t sure what the meaning of this was, but he liked being able to see well. Perhaps it isn’t so bad here after all…I can already see better. He thought in dark humor.
So their first experiment on Tattoo was a success. Over the two years that Tattoo lived there, a series of feline experiments were conducted on him, and all were a success. So now, Tattoo can spit and purr. He has startled many wolves by his lithe ways. However, this is not all. He has the extraordinary speed of a cat and has startled many with this as well. His claws sting like that of a cat whence they scratch. Helpful in battle? Oh yes…Now, you may be asking, ‘How did Tattoo get out of that hell hole?’ Well, I have your answer my friend, I have the answer.
Tattoo was being shown at an exhibition, as he so frequently was for his uniqueness and success in every test. He had won many things for this twisted world, each one pleasing the people more and more. However, at one of these, he was being shown and a judge did not correctly latch the bolts on his cage door. Finally, his escape could be made! But how with all of these humans around? He would find away he decided. With a cunning grin matching that of a devilish Cheshire cat, he nudged the door open and wiggled out. He was free, but darted underneath the sterile blue tarp that lay on the table and reached to the floor as he saw a human coming. The feet stopped in front of Tattoo and the human’s breathing increased. He began to shout that an experiment was missing and it all went to chaos. With a snarl, the brave lupine…er…feline…luline darted out and ran towards the doors he had been carried through. Some of them lunged at him and tried to capture him, but he writhed away from their grasps. Others screeched and lurched out of his way, fearing their own creation.
The doors were sliding shut, their automatic locks ready to enclose him forevermore. But he managed to get through, and ran away from that life forever. He felt bad that some of the fellow experiments from his lab, especially Strigyt and Loalibo. The poor fellows. Ah well, perhaps they as well would have their chance to escape…perhaps not. He ran far, far away, to where the humans could never find him.
***
He wandered about for two years, but had not yet truly reached his territory. The humans fear what they don’t understand, and they in no way understand the complexity of the wolf.
Tattoo roamed for two years, not ever finding anywhere suitable for him to stay. He looked for the Trigal, but he had been carried far from there, and no hopes of finding them were sensible. He looked for lands to claim as his own, but none were fit to his liking. Where did he end up? In the lands owned by four packs, treacheries are everywhere you turn, though not always obvious, and destinies but a blur; where you have to work to earn a name and respect for yourself. Tattoo decided it may be interesting to stay here, and who knows, perhaps he could find out more about his previous life, his true life, all in good time, in these lands.
What eventful chapter in his life will happen now? Still in his prime and searching for who he truly is...we shall see, we shall see.