C.o.u.l.d H.a.v.e L.i.v.e.d L.i.k.e T.h.i.s (Yamamori)

Title: C.o.u.l.d H.a.v.e L.i.v.e.d L.i.k.e T.h.i.s

Ayasha - January 12, 2007 10:51 PM (GMT)

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Name
 
Ayasha
 

Meaning
 
Little One
 

Name Origin
 
Native American (Cheyenne)
 

Gender
 
Female
 

Age
 
Three years
 

Sire & Dam unknown
 
No mates
 
No known siblings
 
No offspring
 

Colors
 
A base coat which, at first glance, appears to be white turns out to be a subdued creamy hue. When lying in the snow, the difference is obvious. This creamy color is dominant on her belly, chest, and the insides of her legs, along with the underside of her tail. However, halfway up her sides, the cream is disrupted by a streak of cinnamon-hued fur that runs the entire length of her body and even along the edges of her tail. It comes together in a sort of V-shaped, collar-like formation on her chest. Above the dip in this streak is a tuft of silvery hair. The tips of her fur along her upper sides and back retain this silver color, and it runs all the way down her body to the top of her tail.
 
A smudge of the rusty reddish-brown color is present on her forehead between her eyes and ears, and another smudge is smeared down her muzzle. Her small, pointed ears are rimmed in the cinnamon shade, as are her eyes. Her nose is black, as are the pads on her feet. Her eyes are a dark hue, appearing black from a distance, but when one approaches, they will note that her eyes take on the cinnamon hue that seems to show up in random places on her body.
 

No scars
 
No distinct markings
 

Build
 
Slightly smaller than most females her age, Ayasha's name is quite befitting. In spite of her slightly small stature, most wolves have to see her in comparison with another female of her same relative age to notice a difference. She is built lean and lithe with long, sturdy legs, and as a result, she can really move out when she wants to. She has apparently traded in strength for speed and agility.
 

Personality
 
It really depends on her mood; Ayasha can be a serious, sober wolf, or she can be fun-filled and playful. There are many facets to her personality, but one thing remains true about her at all times: she knows when to get serious and do what needs to be done. She's a responsible individual, and takes rank and roles seriously. She was not born or raised into a pack, so part of her seriousness regarding rank and responsibilities stems from the little inkling of fear that if she doesn't do everything perfectly, she'll be evicted from the pack. It's quite a bit of pressure she's putting herself under.
 
However, she doesn't seem to realize this. Ayasha merely does what is required of her without complaint. She's a good worker, if not necessarily strong, then certainly willing to learn and try. She's not an amazingly intelligent wolf, but she's certainly not stupid either; intelligence-wise, she runs about average. She doesn't use guile or manipulation to get what she wants. With Ayasha, what you see is pretty much what you get.
 

Likes
 
Snow, winter, spring, flowers, cliffs and other high places, water, waterfalls, rain, pack life.
 

Dislikes
 
Conflict, heat, summer, flies, laziness, braggarts
 

History
 
Ayasha was born in a makeshift den outside of pack territory to two loner wolves. Her first days of life were, as expected, filled with nothing but darkness and the warmth of her mother's pelt. Her mother had been a younger wolf, inexperienced, and had given birth to only three pups. One was stillborn, the other sickly. It died within two days of birth. Ayasha, small though she may have been, seemed very much alive, which warmed her weary parents' hearts. She continued to grow, healthy and strong, until the day came when she was gifted with sight. The world took on new meaning; it was more than just warmth, fur, and milk. The possibilities of the world outside the den struck Ayasha with awe, even at a young age.
 
She was a rough-and-tumble pup, sneaking out of the den whenever she had the opportunity. She was always caught, however, if not by her mother, then by her father. He was a great hulking beast, black as the night with points of silver in his fur like stars in the sky. Her mother was of a more subdued monochrome hue, ranging from white to dark gray. Both of them were glad that there was only one Ayasha, for she alone kept their days full.
 
She continued to grow, and her world broadened from the den, and the immediate area around it, to the forest beyond. Her parents began to take her hunting with them, to teach her all she would need to know to survive in the world. She tagged along happily, glad to be with them more and left at the den less. The world was full of adventures and things to see about and explore. She was always sticking her muzzle into holes in the ground or rotted logs, forever yelping as she found some unpleasant surprise waiting for her there. But, being a pup, she always bounced back with exuberance, though she stored these unpleasantries away in her mind, to ponder over later.
 
It was a misty autumn day when once Ayasha woke at the den to find her parents gone. Assuming that they had gone hunting, she remained there, biding her time. The day wore on, and her parents did not return. Her pup patience wearing thin, Ayasha finally struck out on their trail, tracing them through the forest. Their scents bypassed what she thought of as their territory. It was a straight, unwandering path, and the she-wolf couldn't imagine where they had gone. Was this some sort of test for her, to see if she could find them? Her ponderings continued until it seemed almost as if something slapped her in the nose. Balking, she lifted her head and looked.
 
The unfamiliar scent belonged not to one wolf, but to many. But her parents' scents were mingled with them, and so, cautiously, Ayasha pressed on. Her ears and eyes strained to catch any movement in the brush around her; the other wolves' scents were fresh. As her parents' scents grew stronger, she was also able to pick up the scent of blood. Stopping, she hesitated. Should she go on? In spite of her hackles standing on end, Ayasha pressed forward, albeit rather reluctantly. The smell of blood grew stronger on the air drawing her forward. As she thrust her head through a patch of brambles, the young wolf started and stopped.
 
In front of her lay her sire, his black pelt even darker and tacky with blood. Ayasha stared at it for a moment before backing up slowly and turning around, only to be met with the sight of her mother in much the same condition. Ayasha's nose told her that they were dead, and had been for a good part of the day.
 
Terrified, she raced back to the den like the wind, running as if that pack was snapping at her heels and threatening to rend her to pieces next. It was just barely dark when she slipped into the safety of the den and curled up, shivering. It was a long, lonely night. In spite of her fright, however, Ayasha was up the next morning early, and vacated the den.
 
For the next two years, she wandered on her own. She hated being alone, but she was too anxious to join the pack that had killed her parents. Suppose they somehow found out that she was the offspring of trespassers? So she hunted, ran, and lived alone until one day she realized how unhappy she was. Her trepidation still kept her from approaching the pack, but she was tired of living alone. And so, without hesitation, she struck out toward unfamiliar territory; she would find another pack, one who would welcome her.
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