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Description

Activity Log | Relationships

↠ Status: CLOSED

B A S I C S
Name: Pidgewidge [Pidge, Pidgeon]
Age: Adult [4 Years]
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Sexuality: BisexualSpecies: Northwestern Wolf Mix
Height: 35''
Weight: 145 lbs
Build: Rounded out in face and neck, Pidge has a tapered back with thick, sturdy legs built for long distance walks and heavy blows. Most of the muscle lies in his shoulders, and it makes him partially top heavy.

Scent: Frost and honeysuckle.
Voice: Soft and mellow, but rough on the consonants; a slight lisp on 's' sounds.
D E T A I L S
Family:
↠ In-Game: N/A
↠ NPC: N/A

Faction: N/A
Former Faction: The Empire
Aliance: N/A
Rank: None

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━
P E R S O N A L I T Y

Charismatic Reasonable Honest Questioning Abstract Dependant Self-indulgent

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

All throughout his life, Pidgewidge had most of his path carved out for him from the start. He never once truly tried to make a name for himself, nor did he feel the need to betray the system and work to his own tempo. For the most part, he was driven to do his job so he could enjoy the benefits afterwards, and nothing more. His ability to follow orders made him a good listener and worker, as he'd never second guess someone's command. Pidge is quite reasonable and able to compromise to make things work, as he's never one to start conflict for the sake of seeing bloodshed. He'd rather have an out in a bad situation than be stuck to face the music, and so Pidge has a tendancy to go with the flow in order to avoid trouble. If it's easy and convenient, then he's not likely to be a voice of treason.

Part of this has caused him to be dependant on someone of higher power in order to keep him on track; by himself, Pidge can be lazy and unproductive if given the chance, as he's easily bored by mundane, repetitive tasks. While he won't say this to anyone's face, one can tell when he's losing interest due to his blank stare and still features. Sometimes it's hard to tell just what he's thinking since he internalizes a lot of his personal musings unless asks. Pidge doesn't over nor undershare, but he is honest and will provide a truthful answer to any question asked. Sometimes he may beat around the bush if he isn't comfortable, but Pidge is not one to lie in order to earn someone's trust. He does, however, have a knack for telling stories, and it isn't uncommon for him to spin a tale if he's in the mood to amuse his company.

When in a good mood, Pidge is animated and sarcastic. He uses his silver tongue to endear and make his company happy, as he enjoys seeing what his words and mannerisms evoke in others. Learning someone's quirks is one of his favourite hobbies, and he can catologue his favourite expressions and responses in his memory in order to bring them up at a later date, mostly in a teasing manner. Pidgewidge is helpful by design, and even in his former job as a Scout, he would regularly give those he encountered an 'out' if they managed to impress or amuse him.

To some degree, Pidge is selfish as he only wants to make his life easier at the end of the day. He's scared of failing, and even moreso he doesn't want to wind up alone. He trusts easily, and he only wishes to see the good in others- perhaps this is to counteract his former alignment with a corrupt system.

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H I S T O R Y
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Blood spilled, it seems, was just not enough to atone for the family's mistakes.

Of a small vagabond pack, roughly made of fifteen individuals, there were only two females. They were sisters, and the main eyes and ears of the pack. Most of them were wolves who had escaped dire living situations several years ago, surviving off of the land by treading through territories that weren't theres. It didn't matter if it were wolf or cougar or bear, if it provided shelter and food, the family took it. It wasn't until they had breached unfamiliar waters that their first taste of failure greeted them.

Having traveled from the west inwards during the dead of winter in search of the migrating herds, the second sister became pregnant and bore three children halfway through their travel. Due to the timing and location, only one survived- there were too many mouths to feed and very little prey, and the first sister had to make the decision to protect their hunters and old blood versus that of the children- despite her kin's protests and anguish, and the resentment of the father. She had allowed two of the pups to starve, albeit their fates had been sealed from the moment they were born. Smaller than the last child, they had no chance of surviving the cold and harsh weather of the base of the mountain they'd been resting in. It was this death that tore the fifteen wolves apart, and half of them had separated in favor for either sister due to the loss of new life. Those in favor of keeping on sided with the first, and those who swore to protect the remaining child stayed with the second.
The first had left with her wolves, and the second remained behind in the snow-laced trails and woods of the mountainside.

For the course of four months there was a period of recovery and contentment, each remaining wolf taking their turn to provide for their lady and her child, each one risking their own life to see something bright bloom from their constant struggle. On the night of the fifth month, the second sister had returned to the family's small spot. However, there were no other wolves in her wake. She was alone.

"They are coming- the Empire," she had said, fear and sorrow in her voice. The pack had no recollection of any other wolves in the area, and most thought it was a tactic to scare them out in order for the first sister to reclaim the safe spot. So they chose to try and subdue her, but she ran in fear of what was to come, and it left the second sister in a state of worry as the paranoia lingered within her and her wolves for the better part of the night. The following day brought mayhem, as they who were mentioned showed up. There was no submission from the small family at first, but after the death of two of their own, the second sister pleaded that they-the Empire- let them go. There was no remorse from the wolves who found them, and eventually she could only do one thing to ensure her remaining child was not killed on that night- she offered him to the leader of the ambush party, begging that he take the child and let the rest of her pack go. She knew that her child would survive- he was healthy, and he was young enough to not fight her decision- nor that of the scouting party's orders.

Maybe it was by the grace of God, or perhaps just luck of the draw, but the head of the ambush agreed. They had one week to flee back west, otherwise their next meeting would result in death, regardless of if the boy lived or not.

And so she fled with her remaining wolves, and the scout was left with the child.
But the child will remember their decision and its outcome.

While Pidgewidge doesn't remember much from his first half a year, he does remember the night that he was bartered off to the wolves of the Empire. He will always remember the teeth around his midsection, the way the eyes watched him as he was placed beside a broodmother and expected to eat despite her not smelling like his mother. He remembers being too tired and too cold to protest, to ask why. And maybe it was that feeling that spurred him to nurse, to survive despite the odds and the hurt in his little chest. He did not have a choice, it seemed, and the gentle praise he received from his new foster was enough to keep his heart from feeling too hollow.

The young boy was a product of the unlucky and the undesired, and forged by the power and the promise of something far greater than him. Pidge was raised to behave, the follow orders, and to complete the tasks that the Empire handed to him and the other scouts. He never once fought against them, for in some way they saved him, they spared him the same fate that he'd witnessed the others fall to. He owed them his life, and he taught himself to believe that without question. It was a sentiment that he kept in his chest for three and a half years, the sole reason of why he remained. He had nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to, and those he'd met within the Empire itself he never quite learned to trust.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

G R O U P H I S T O R Y
In chronological order

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

↠ Your Way Out - Pidge, currently a scout for the Empire, is confronted by a peculiar wolf who extends to him an olive branch of a new path. The wolf is conflicted, but given time to consider escaping his current life and starting anew with the nameless traveler.

M I S C
Quirks:
↠

Themesong: TBD
↠ Playlist: TBD

Description

Activity Log | Relationships

↠ Status: CLOSED

B A S I C S
Name: Pidgewidge [Pidge, Pidgeon]
Age: Adult [4 Years]
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Sexuality: BisexualSpecies: Northwestern Wolf Mix
Height: 35''
Weight: 145 lbs
Build: Rounded out in face and neck, Pidge has a tapered back with thick, sturdy legs built for long distance walks and heavy blows. Most of the muscle lies in his shoulders, and it makes him partially top heavy.

Scent: Frost and honeysuckle.
Voice: Soft and mellow, but rough on the consonants; a slight lisp on 's' sounds.
D E T A I L S
Family:
↠ In-Game: N/A
↠ NPC: N/A

Faction: N/A
Former Faction: The Empire
Aliance: N/A
Rank: None

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━
P E R S O N A L I T Y

Charismatic Reasonable Honest Questioning Abstract Dependant Self-indulgent

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

All throughout his life, Pidgewidge had most of his path carved out for him from the start. He never once truly tried to make a name for himself, nor did he feel the need to betray the system and work to his own tempo. For the most part, he was driven to do his job so he could enjoy the benefits afterwards, and nothing more. His ability to follow orders made him a good listener and worker, as he'd never second guess someone's command. Pidge is quite reasonable and able to compromise to make things work, as he's never one to start conflict for the sake of seeing bloodshed. He'd rather have an out in a bad situation than be stuck to face the music, and so Pidge has a tendancy to go with the flow in order to avoid trouble. If it's easy and convenient, then he's not likely to be a voice of treason.

Part of this has caused him to be dependant on someone of higher power in order to keep him on track; by himself, Pidge can be lazy and unproductive if given the chance, as he's easily bored by mundane, repetitive tasks. While he won't say this to anyone's face, one can tell when he's losing interest due to his blank stare and still features. Sometimes it's hard to tell just what he's thinking since he internalizes a lot of his personal musings unless asks. Pidge doesn't over nor undershare, but he is honest and will provide a truthful answer to any question asked. Sometimes he may beat around the bush if he isn't comfortable, but Pidge is not one to lie in order to earn someone's trust. He does, however, have a knack for telling stories, and it isn't uncommon for him to spin a tale if he's in the mood to amuse his company.

When in a good mood, Pidge is animated and sarcastic. He uses his silver tongue to endear and make his company happy, as he enjoys seeing what his words and mannerisms evoke in others. Learning someone's quirks is one of his favourite hobbies, and he can catologue his favourite expressions and responses in his memory in order to bring them up at a later date, mostly in a teasing manner. Pidgewidge is helpful by design, and even in his former job as a Scout, he would regularly give those he encountered an 'out' if they managed to impress or amuse him.

To some degree, Pidge is selfish as he only wants to make his life easier at the end of the day. He's scared of failing, and even moreso he doesn't want to wind up alone. He trusts easily, and he only wishes to see the good in others- perhaps this is to counteract his former alignment with a corrupt system.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━
H I S T O R Y
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Blood spilled, it seems, was just not enough to atone for the family's mistakes.

Of a small vagabond pack, roughly made of fifteen individuals, there were only two females. They were sisters, and the main eyes and ears of the pack. Most of them were wolves who had escaped dire living situations several years ago, surviving off of the land by treading through territories that weren't theres. It didn't matter if it were wolf or cougar or bear, if it provided shelter and food, the family took it. It wasn't until they had breached unfamiliar waters that their first taste of failure greeted them.

Having traveled from the west inwards during the dead of winter in search of the migrating herds, the second sister became pregnant and bore three children halfway through their travel. Due to the timing and location, only one survived- there were too many mouths to feed and very little prey, and the first sister had to make the decision to protect their hunters and old blood versus that of the children- despite her kin's protests and anguish, and the resentment of the father. She had allowed two of the pups to starve, albeit their fates had been sealed from the moment they were born. Smaller than the last child, they had no chance of surviving the cold and harsh weather of the base of the mountain they'd been resting in. It was this death that tore the fifteen wolves apart, and half of them had separated in favor for either sister due to the loss of new life. Those in favor of keeping on sided with the first, and those who swore to protect the remaining child stayed with the second.
The first had left with her wolves, and the second remained behind in the snow-laced trails and woods of the mountainside.

For the course of four months there was a period of recovery and contentment, each remaining wolf taking their turn to provide for their lady and her child, each one risking their own life to see something bright bloom from their constant struggle. On the night of the fifth month, the second sister had returned to the family's small spot. However, there were no other wolves in her wake. She was alone.

"They are coming- the Empire," she had said, fear and sorrow in her voice. The pack had no recollection of any other wolves in the area, and most thought it was a tactic to scare them out in order for the first sister to reclaim the safe spot. So they chose to try and subdue her, but she ran in fear of what was to come, and it left the second sister in a state of worry as the paranoia lingered within her and her wolves for the better part of the night. The following day brought mayhem, as they who were mentioned showed up. There was no submission from the small family at first, but after the death of two of their own, the second sister pleaded that they-the Empire- let them go. There was no remorse from the wolves who found them, and eventually she could only do one thing to ensure her remaining child was not killed on that night- she offered him to the leader of the ambush party, begging that he take the child and let the rest of her pack go. She knew that her child would survive- he was healthy, and he was young enough to not fight her decision- nor that of the scouting party's orders.

Maybe it was by the grace of God, or perhaps just luck of the draw, but the head of the ambush agreed. They had one week to flee back west, otherwise their next meeting would result in death, regardless of if the boy lived or not.

And so she fled with her remaining wolves, and the scout was left with the child.
But the child will remember their decision and its outcome.

While Pidgewidge doesn't remember much from his first half a year, he does remember the night that he was bartered off to the wolves of the Empire. He will always remember the teeth around his midsection, the way the eyes watched him as he was placed beside a broodmother and expected to eat despite her not smelling like his mother. He remembers being too tired and too cold to protest, to ask why. And maybe it was that feeling that spurred him to nurse, to survive despite the odds and the hurt in his little chest. He did not have a choice, it seemed, and the gentle praise he received from his new foster was enough to keep his heart from feeling too hollow.

The young boy was a product of the unlucky and the undesired, and forged by the power and the promise of something far greater than him. Pidge was raised to behave, the follow orders, and to complete the tasks that the Empire handed to him and the other scouts. He never once fought against them, for in some way they saved him, they spared him the same fate that he'd witnessed the others fall to. He owed them his life, and he taught himself to believe that without question. It was a sentiment that he kept in his chest for three and a half years, the sole reason of why he remained. He had nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to, and those he'd met within the Empire itself he never quite learned to trust.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

G R O U P H I S T O R Y
In chronological order

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

↠ Your Way Out - Pidge, currently a scout for the Empire, is confronted by a peculiar wolf who extends to him an olive branch of a new path. The wolf is conflicted, but given time to consider escaping his current life and starting anew with the nameless traveler.

M I S C
Quirks:
↠

Themesong: TBD
↠ Playlist: TBD