Name: Tlon Aumanil
Age: 9 summers
Gender: Male
Pack: Din'dea
Rank: Alpha

Family
Sire: Khor Aumanil (deceased)
Dam: Ranu Mythe (deceased)
Siblings: Ylandi Mythe, Tark Aumanil (deceased), Mirrii Mythe
Mate: Kiwidinok
Pups: None

Appearance: Tlon is rather small for a male wolf, having been the runt of the litter. From nose to tail he is around 120cm though his thin frame makes him look smaller. His pelt is a mixture of various colours, silver being the dominant one. His muzzle and ears are greying from age and this is particularly visible on his lower jaw as the fur there was originally a creamy white. A line of black runs down his back, spreading in some places though these ash coloured patches are greying also as Tlon ages. He has rather long legs and thin paws, making it easy for him to run short distances though his age limits how far he can move before having to pause. His a curious look about them as though he is calculating what you are doing or saying as he watches. His tail is slightly crooked about half way down where it was once broken by the teeth muzzle is quite long and his ochre eyes hold of a wolverine, the bones having not healed properly. This causes it to bend slightly as he flicks it. As he is an older wolf, Tlon finds his legs ache and will occasionally stumble though this is only when he is weary.

He now has a limp in the right foreleg from where it was broken by the brute, Larion. He also has a lot of scarring in this shoulder and the fur is not as thick here as in other places on his body.

Personality: Tlon is a quiet wolf with a calm and serene nature that has gradually developed over the years. He is constantly polite, full of respect towards everyone, especially those of equal or lower rank though to higher ranks he can be just as gentle. Before approaching another wolf, Tlon will often simply watch them interact with others or watch how they hold themselves of walk so he can determine what kind of personality they posses, so he knows how to greet and talk to them. Some seem to find it unnerving how he adds titles onto the names of other wolves such as 'Lady' Or 'Lord' though he tries his best to break this habit when someone tells him to stop speaking to them in such a humble manner.

Tlon loves stories and tales, carrying and spreading them part of his self given job as a lore-keeper. When asking to cross into another packs lands and asked of what services he could give in return, his main quality that he speaks of is the tales that he weaves to teach wolves morals. He takes it upon himself to make sure wolves do not kill for pleasure and other such things that he and, many other varg, know is right.

History:

The air was rather bitter the night Ranu brought six pups into the world, two of which were born dead, their little bodies slowly growing cold. The four remaining however were cuddled to her warm side, glad to have been brought into the world. The litter's father, Khor, stalked into the den, his large frame and strong build winning him the power over many other wolves. His ochre eyes drifted between the live pups and the dead, a slightly annoyed expression creasing his muzzle. He lowered his silver skull and nudged the smallest of the living pups, obviously the runt, and snorted a little, causing the pup to make an odd noise.

"How come this little runt lived and two perfectly strong pups died."

He muttered these words though he knew the newborn's themselves could not hear. A tut escaped Ranu's maw as she listened to his words, feeling that each of the live pups were close and special to her.

"Gentle, Khor, they will grow strong."

She turned her weary head to the largest of the litter, a little brute that was now asleep at her side.

"He will make a fine heir for you.. "

She paused, eyes running over the small bodies beside her.

"We must name them..."

The gentle female's eyes turned on the two females of the litter, both pearly white in colour though one had a splash of black across her back.

"Mirrii and Ylandi after my dam and yours."

She smiled and carefully ran her coarse tongue over them, pushing their thin layer of fur in the right direction. Khor nodded his elegant skull, eyes fixed on the larger male pup before flicking to the runt.

"My heir shall be Tark after my proud grand-sire... And the runt. I give him the name of Tlon, after my sire."

He gave the runt the name with a grudge in his tones before turning in a neat circle and settling to the earthen floor of the cave.

"Once the sun shines over the land again I will hunt for you, my love."

He looked to his mate with his careful eyes before settling down to sleep, Ranu quickly following his example.

******

Several months passed and the four living pups grew strong, exploring the area around their den and playing together as pups should. It was obvious that their sire showed favouritism towards young Tark though their dam made sure each little one was treated equally. The smallest pup, Tlon, knew deep down his father did not love him and it depressed him greatly, troubles pressing on his mind so much that Ranu noticed. She took him aside one night, as Khor talked to his heir about 'important matters'.

"Why do you look so lost, Tlon?"

She asked the little brujo gently as the moon hung high in the sky above, her frame picked out by the soft white light. Her son looked up at her, thoughts of how big she was going through his young mind but he quickly changed his line of thought to her question. Why was he lost?

"Does Papa love me?"

He blurted this out to his mother and in later years he learned how to refrain from being so blunt and tactless. His large ochre eyes blinked as he awaited an answer. Ranu looked a little shocked by this question but quickly recovered, hoping Tlon had not noticed.

"Of course.. Now shall we go to sleep? The sun already has."

She rose onto her elegant pillars and began towards the cave, Tlon skipping at her heels.

****

Two years now past and all four of the litter matured into young wolves, each having gone on their first hunt with their mother and father and relished in the taste of red deer. Each of the four's personalities had shaped and each had a very different outlook on life. Tark had been made the Beta of the pack for now, as he was the strongest from the siblings, the two females normal sub-ordinates, though Ylandi showed interest in hunting rather more then her sister. Tlon however was treated worst by all the pack. He had grown to be the smallest out of all of them, smaller then Mirrii even. He would often spend time alone, away from the others as all his brother ever did was pass snide comments at him and his sisters seemed extremely patronising in the least.

One particular sun, he was alone as he usually was, dozing under a willow that hung out over a small trickling stream, his head resting on his paws as he lay. A sudden snarl met his ears and he lifted his head. Perhaps it was Tark and Father arguing again? He stayed still for a moment, letting the sound carry on the breeze. No. It sounded far more angered and violent then even Tark would get. He pulled himself onto his thin legs and ran towards the place where his family had been resting, legs covering ground quickly.

The sight that met his eyes made him stop in the brush, thankfully downwind of the snarling, snapping, bloodthirsty sight that met his ochre eyes. His father and brother lay dead in the grass, blood spilling from their carcasses, eyes blank and empty. The runt of the pack backed away slightly, eyes shifting to the wolves that had done this. They were large brutes, pelts of varying hues and tones. Tlon felt anger well inside him but he knew he could do nothing. Once again his eyes were drawn, but this time to his mother who lay feeblely by his sisters, trying to snap at the attackers, to protect her little girls.

A brute of black leaped at her, powerful jaws open and ready to snap. And they did, around her throat with deadly strength. Tlon would have whimpered, if his thoughts of discretion hadn't stopped him. He shook his head, staring as his two remaining littermates were driven away by the males wolves, each of them laughing and snapping at the female's heels, making them yip with fright. Tlon saw this before turning away from it all. It was too much, it couldn't be real. He blinked and broke into a run.

****

Years passed and Tlon wandered here and there, never staying in one place more then a year. He collected stories on his travels and offered them in return for being allowed to roam on pack terrain, glad he could offer a little service here and there. It ate at him how he had run from the wolves that had killed off his family and taken his sisters. He should have done something! He had been such a fool... Though he knew know he could do nothing except for continuing to wander, knowing deep in his heart he could never free himself from what he had done.

****

Now, Tlon is the Alpha of the Din'dea. Since Lord Hades vanished after Lord Ayashe, Tlon was left in charge. He has seen a lot during his time in this pack from humans on his lands to a hurricane and now faces the even greater threat of Larion and the Kargroth.

NO ACCEPTED! YOU CALL THAT AN APPLICAITON??? ;-)

lmao had to do it Katie...had to do it ^.^