Post by ☽ Hati ☾ on Jan 20, 2012 18:29:48 GMT -5
OOC Information
OOC Name:Ravv
Link to Previous Character: n/a
General
Name: Hati
Alias:
Itah, a name unknown to himself in his current state. Lost within the fabrications of his troubled mind. The other Alias he's known by is Ghost. A name given to him by those who have seen him...but not in a reliable sense.
Species: Lumen
Gender: Male
Age: 100
Pack: Loner
Rank: n/a
Physical
Height: 42"
Weight: 31 pounds
Appearance:
Hati, in spite of his deadly nature, appears to have no physical flaws that may make him unattractive in any way. (Being that he maintains his scar hidden with his Lumen powers.) He is often referred to as "clear" and "beautiful". Hati usually has a charming expression on his face. He has dark blue fur, and seems to have a healthy, well-trained body for a wolf of his species and age. Hati's eyes, at first glance, may appear as regular, pink and beautiful eyes, but if one stares intensely into them, once can see the bloodthirsty beast inside him.
Pelt:
Although Lumen can change their pelt at will, Hati prefers to keep his pelt a navy blue color. The base of his pelt is a navy blue with touches of light blue near the arch of his body. His underfur and tip of tail are light blue as well and reach along his legs to his paws. Combs of an even lighter blue ridge across his a pelt in an almost-striped pattern. It's as if he's a reflection of the moon. Hati's fur is soft to the touch and hardly ever snags.
Body:
Hati is very well fit for a Lumen of his age and size. His muscles are strong and he has a well-built body. He has pushed himself on a daily basis and has been awarded with many scars. Most to which remain on his body…never to heal again. To hide this fact from others, Hati often strains himself with keeping it hidden through the Lumen abilities. The eyes of Hati are a charming pink that seem to always match his ever-changing pelt. Hati has only became as good as he is today because of his practice. The practice to change a pelt is a tiresome process…and one to which he came accustomed to.
Scars:
The other scars are but nothing in comparison to Hati's back. The scar that was given to him when he lost his memory is the most unbearable and hardest to hide Fur ceased to grow where it resides and his Lumen techniques can barely match such a thing. It's one of his greatest weaknesses. The scar crosses his entire body…from his right ear to his left hind leg. An easy opening to attackers. The scars along his body are an off-white with no distinction of redness.
Voice:
When Hati does speak…his voice is both rusty and cold. He has always been a soft-speaker but his voice over the many years changed from when he was a pup. Weather and harsh-trips has etched at his vocals and has given him a rugged voice.
Other:
n/a
Mental
Strengths:
+Cunning
+Intelligent
+Strongly Built
+Quick Reflexes
+Creative
+Covetous
+Seductive
Weaknesses:
-Fear of Water
-Scar
-Knowledge
-Brutality
-Ambitious
-Deceiving
-Hot-headed
-Sunlight
-Memory loss
-Has trouble matching his scar to his changing pelt
-Insecure
-Misguiding
Personality:
Hati is seen as a cold hearted, bloodthirsty, brutal and ambitious wolf. He will do away with just about anybody who gets in the way of what he desires. Hati's heart has succumb to bitterness and is pumped with the blood of hatred. His cravings for the demise of others is unmatched. Hati humors himself with the scream of others, their pains…their sorrows…their pathetic lives. The way wolves (other than his species and those of long lives) try to live their ant-like lives is most intriguing to him. He finds himself pitying others for the most humorous reasons. When someone looks at Hati, he glares back, which intimidates most wolves. His bitter and hardened personality often make others second-chance themselves.
Hati believes beating others down is needed in this world…that they all have committed deeds and he was the punisher. Hati is both cunning and quick witted. Intelligence wise--he knows no bounds. Like a self-centered god, Hati quietly claims to be great in all aspects. His mind outreaches WonderWhy, grasping for knowledge. Ever since he lost it all in that 'accident,' he wanders the world to learn about himself and what he was born into. On a daily basis, Hati can be hard to find -- for he is not too found of others. Only on occasion does he tend to his 'games' which are depicted as 'trollish' and 'sadistic.' In his games…the more you amuse him--the longer you live. Those who he has engaged with in the past have all died. It's easily known that he gets bored easily and its hard to maintain Hati's humor in any situation.
Hati, in spite of his bloodthirsty nature, appears to be gentle and kind at times. He gives off a 'trusting' first impression…often offering to help others. Only because he likes to hear others stories and pull at their most pained memories.
He desires to spread hate..and make others hate him. Strangely, hate gives him comfort and helps give meaning to this dreaded lifestyle.
Deep…deep inside Hati is an embodiment of pain and anguish. For the question still remains…
"Who am I?"
History:
A hundred years antecedent, and a rare flush of warmth brought an early spring to the far northern forests. Only the towering pines and freshly sprung grasses were witness to the birth of the Lumen litter, strong in number for their breed – four healthy pups were brought forth, blind and small, into the soft glow of the morning sun. Two females, Alsviar and Mani, and two males, Arvakr and Itah. Itah was by far the biggest of the litter, exceptionally healthy, and was able to easily push around his still-helpless siblings.
Their mother was a good mother, however, and all were nurtured and well cared for. They grew quickly and with little incidence of trouble – that is, until the pups were able to hear and see and move about on their own. As they emerged from infancy and the mother returned to the small family pack of Lumen, it became evident that Itah’s eyes were strangely cold. They were seemingly dull when one gazed into them ,yet, his mother paid no such mind to small things. Itah’s sight was perfectly fine and he was able to play with his sisters.
In the sidelines Itah had caught several glares from his brother, Arvakr. Arvakr was weak, a runt of the litter. Thinking nothing of it, Itah sneered slightly and let his sisters chant at the feeble pup. ’You can’t keep up, Arvakr, you’re too weak, Arvakr.’ They would say as they happily played without him.
Itah didn't want attention received from his parents, in fact, he hated it. He hated the way they gazed over him. Always peering at his robust build with expecting eyes. What did they wish him to be? Was he to be their pride? He did not care. Deep in his heart, Itah knew he hated them all. He was born with this hate…it pumped his blood.
Itah’s sisters always pestered him through the days. Acquiring that he must play with them and entertain them. Luckily, one day, Arvakr was able to trick Alsviar to go into the forest to find a beautiful collection of flowers. As Arvakr laughed in his successful trick, Itah was clearly upset.
He was still left with Mani.
Mani was the most excitable from their litter. She always wanted to play, run, and explore. Itah only wish Arvakr had ensnared Mani with her sense of adventure...which his brother did occasionally. Although, this time, she had not been around for Arvakr’s trick.
Mani easily found her way to Itah, who could always be found sitting atop the cold rocks in their den. She had asked to play but Itah had quickly declined. He had no wish to play with her. As Mani had continued pestering, the peace of mind Itah held...snapped. Even though a young pup, he was able to bruise Mani as he shoved her into the rocks. He held no regret for this action and didn’t feel inclined to give the now-weeping pup an apology. As his mother and father accompanied the noise of tears, he was harshly scolded.
Unknowing to the other pups, their father often scolded Itah harshly. Itah gained bruises unseen because of all his fur. He had once tried to explain to his mother with his developing vocabulary...but she never listened. Itah's father believed him to be their only chance for a strong male and assumed it best to inflict pain. Their father wanted Itah to become strong...both physically and mentally. Why though? Itah often thought. What he not strong already? He was no runt!
‘I’ll teach you Itah. You will be a strong and fine wolf one day!’
When alone, Itah curled in the smallest corner to sleep, blinking away weak tears. He hated his father for what he did, his mother for what she couldn’t see, and his siblings for who they were. Itah continued to channel these thoughts throughout himself. His eyes welcomed the cold winds and embraced the way they pricked at his fur. Since his tenth beating, never again did Itah shed a single tear....
Itah's eyes were now profoundly harsh and cold. It was the time to learn and practice his hunting skills. Although there are not many things Itah can look forward to, this was a rare occasion. He gave great pleasure in inflicting his pain on small creatures, excitably proud in their death. It was a prolonged excitement that gave him unexpected happiness. Itah secretly caught sight of his brother, Arvakr, from time to time. Arvakr seemingly took strange pleasure in killing his prey slowly. Somehow, this sparked an interest in Itah. He never admitted it but Itah enjoyed the death and screams of his prey, like Arvakr.
It was amusing.
Itah became a well-practiced hunter. Impressing his father greatly and earning prideful meals.
Something strange began to happen though...his mother never seemed to look at Itah anymore. When Itah engaged into a conversation with her she never provided the comfort of eye-contact.
“Why do you not look at me, mother?” His voice was a deadly cold and often echoed in his mothers head. “Why?” Itah repeated. His mother responded generally with ‘I must attend something’ or ‘Your sister needs something, we’ll talk later.’
His sisters also began to drift from Itah. They never offered to play with him anymore and whenever he approached them they often scurried away.
“Why?”
They were three years old when Itah followed Arvakr through the snowy forest, and found him slowly skinning a trapped squirrel. His brother laughed and took his kill without comment, but later mocked Arvakr for his behavior. As brothers do, Itah knew precisely the words to stoke Arvakr’s rage – “Don’t even know how to properly kill a catch? Too weak for that? Huh? Can’t even break its neck, can you?”
Itah was now accustom to the neglect of his mother and sisters. His father had ceased beating him and now believed Itah to be too strong. He feared his own son.
Itah had only Arvakr now.
He never really had any conversations with Arvakr through the years; he didn’t have much to say to the pathetic runt. He didn’t conceive passion for the weak and had fallen prey to only a few of Arvakr’s pranks through the years. Itah grew accustomed to them though and never fell for them again.
Secretly, Itah had been waiting. He was waiting for an idea, trick, prank! Something…anything…proposed by his brother that would free him from this grave of a home! He couldn’t channel his hate normally anymore and often lashed out at nothing. The neglect of his family had molded him into a bitter and odious beast.
Alas, Arvakr would provide him the chance needed...
Itah sat atop the stones like he usually did. He was a fair distance from his other siblings, mother and father. Oddly, the crackling of grass pestered him and he turned to see his brother, Arvakr. ‘Ahoy, brother,’ Arvakr shouted, his voice of both panic and excitement. ‘You will never believe what I’ve found. There’s a cave behind that waterfall over yonder, it’s full of crystals! The floor was so wet from the river’s spray that I slipped and rammed my shoulder up against the wall, see? Look, I know how to get back in, you have to come with me.’ Itah swiveled his head slightly, looking over the wound provided as evidence. “Alright, I’ll go” he said, with slight disbelief in his voice.
Arvakr quickly turned and lead Itah across the forest. A grin casually crapped along the edges of his face; for this was the opportunity he had been waiting for!
Itah’s grin disappeared as they looked upon the grand waterfall. The two adolescents stood before the ice, stinging spray, and his brother offered Itah a broad smile.
‘Go on, brother. You go first, my leg hurts from last time.’
The blood from Arvakr’s wound indeed still bleed. Arvak then nudged Itah forward.
‘I just stood on that rock, there – see the inlet behind the water? Just jump right at it, it’s fine.’
“And if I miss, brother?” Itah asked, not letting his profound pleasure at this chance show.
Itah's brothers expression carefully schooled into mild surprise, Arvakr made a show of peering down the fall, and into the river beyond. ‘We are not that far up. Even if you are carried down by the fall, the water below will soften your landing. Look, the river is calm further downstream; you will be fine.’
And so Itah jumped, leaping for nothing but the flat – very solid – face of rock behind the waterfall. He disappeared beneath the angry, foaming waters, deaf to Arvakr’s barking laughter.
When the smaller wolf limped down the embankment to meet his brother, however, Itah was not to be found. Arvakr searched for him – be he dead or alive – but found no trace whatsoever.
Itah had vanished.
Itah’s near-limp body had found its way to the edge of a similar forest to his den. Water rushed behind him, flowing down the river stream untamed. As water leapt from the river to his face, he regained consciousness.
Itah slowly stood, cautiously examining his surroundings. He reached into his memory for answers but nothing came....nothing. There was nothing there.
“Where am I?” his voice echoed. “Why can’t I recall a name?”
He pondered on the edge of the forest for several days in question. A large scar was the only thing he could go on. It seemed fairly new and throbbed painfully. The gash stretched from his right ear, across his back, along his spine, and ended near his left hind leg. It seemed to have healed when he was unconscious.
Itah tried to match it with surrounding objects and possible outcomes but he couldn’t put anything together.
For the remainder of the year he continued his search for answers.
Itah found nothing pertaining to his identity. After his hunts throughout the past year, a familiar coldness of hatred embraced him. He enjoyed the deaths of his prey and grew accustomed to having a mind of desired trolling. His hatred for others weaker than him emerged.
Travelers, loners, packs, and others began to be played by Itah. He took pleasure in playing ‘hide and seek,’ a game he twisted into a spiteful chase…often ending in some vague deaths. As quickly as he appeared, he disappeared. Other wolves often stayed clear of the paths he was seen on. ‘Beware the accursed ghost’ they said.
Soon Itah became distraught with the lack of his past knowledge. His routines quieted as he seeped away from his games temporarily. Itah began to hate himself for reasons unknown, he did not understand and hated himself for not being able to. He became a quiet and deadly soul…traveling from place to place as he secretly searched for his past.
As his continued hatred outreached the world of Wonderwhy, he gained a small memory.
These letters often appeared in his mind when he slept. H A T I...Hati? It was a strange word but without a name of his own he believed it to be his.
Hati now resumes his 'games' and takes great delight in the pain and suffering of others. His hate for the lives of the pathetic knows no bounds. Finally giving up on the search for his true self, Itah refers to himself as Hati now.
Other: Hati is Itah's true name…spelled backwards. Hati is also Skoll's brother. (Both me and Askr have devoted time to intertwine their history.)
OOC Name:Ravv
Link to Previous Character: n/a
General
Name: Hati
Alias:
Itah, a name unknown to himself in his current state. Lost within the fabrications of his troubled mind. The other Alias he's known by is Ghost. A name given to him by those who have seen him...but not in a reliable sense.
Species: Lumen
Gender: Male
Age: 100
Pack: Loner
Rank: n/a
Physical
Height: 42"
Weight: 31 pounds
Appearance:
Hati, in spite of his deadly nature, appears to have no physical flaws that may make him unattractive in any way. (Being that he maintains his scar hidden with his Lumen powers.) He is often referred to as "clear" and "beautiful". Hati usually has a charming expression on his face. He has dark blue fur, and seems to have a healthy, well-trained body for a wolf of his species and age. Hati's eyes, at first glance, may appear as regular, pink and beautiful eyes, but if one stares intensely into them, once can see the bloodthirsty beast inside him.
Pelt:
Although Lumen can change their pelt at will, Hati prefers to keep his pelt a navy blue color. The base of his pelt is a navy blue with touches of light blue near the arch of his body. His underfur and tip of tail are light blue as well and reach along his legs to his paws. Combs of an even lighter blue ridge across his a pelt in an almost-striped pattern. It's as if he's a reflection of the moon. Hati's fur is soft to the touch and hardly ever snags.
Body:
Hati is very well fit for a Lumen of his age and size. His muscles are strong and he has a well-built body. He has pushed himself on a daily basis and has been awarded with many scars. Most to which remain on his body…never to heal again. To hide this fact from others, Hati often strains himself with keeping it hidden through the Lumen abilities. The eyes of Hati are a charming pink that seem to always match his ever-changing pelt. Hati has only became as good as he is today because of his practice. The practice to change a pelt is a tiresome process…and one to which he came accustomed to.
Scars:
The other scars are but nothing in comparison to Hati's back. The scar that was given to him when he lost his memory is the most unbearable and hardest to hide Fur ceased to grow where it resides and his Lumen techniques can barely match such a thing. It's one of his greatest weaknesses. The scar crosses his entire body…from his right ear to his left hind leg. An easy opening to attackers. The scars along his body are an off-white with no distinction of redness.
Voice:
When Hati does speak…his voice is both rusty and cold. He has always been a soft-speaker but his voice over the many years changed from when he was a pup. Weather and harsh-trips has etched at his vocals and has given him a rugged voice.
Other:
n/a
Mental
Strengths:
+Cunning
+Intelligent
+Strongly Built
+Quick Reflexes
+Creative
+Covetous
+Seductive
Weaknesses:
-Fear of Water
-Scar
-Knowledge
-Brutality
-Ambitious
-Deceiving
-Hot-headed
-Sunlight
-Memory loss
-Has trouble matching his scar to his changing pelt
-Insecure
-Misguiding
Personality:
Hati is seen as a cold hearted, bloodthirsty, brutal and ambitious wolf. He will do away with just about anybody who gets in the way of what he desires. Hati's heart has succumb to bitterness and is pumped with the blood of hatred. His cravings for the demise of others is unmatched. Hati humors himself with the scream of others, their pains…their sorrows…their pathetic lives. The way wolves (other than his species and those of long lives) try to live their ant-like lives is most intriguing to him. He finds himself pitying others for the most humorous reasons. When someone looks at Hati, he glares back, which intimidates most wolves. His bitter and hardened personality often make others second-chance themselves.
Hati believes beating others down is needed in this world…that they all have committed deeds and he was the punisher. Hati is both cunning and quick witted. Intelligence wise--he knows no bounds. Like a self-centered god, Hati quietly claims to be great in all aspects. His mind outreaches WonderWhy, grasping for knowledge. Ever since he lost it all in that 'accident,' he wanders the world to learn about himself and what he was born into. On a daily basis, Hati can be hard to find -- for he is not too found of others. Only on occasion does he tend to his 'games' which are depicted as 'trollish' and 'sadistic.' In his games…the more you amuse him--the longer you live. Those who he has engaged with in the past have all died. It's easily known that he gets bored easily and its hard to maintain Hati's humor in any situation.
Hati, in spite of his bloodthirsty nature, appears to be gentle and kind at times. He gives off a 'trusting' first impression…often offering to help others. Only because he likes to hear others stories and pull at their most pained memories.
He desires to spread hate..and make others hate him. Strangely, hate gives him comfort and helps give meaning to this dreaded lifestyle.
Deep…deep inside Hati is an embodiment of pain and anguish. For the question still remains…
"Who am I?"
History:
8 WEEKS
A hundred years antecedent, and a rare flush of warmth brought an early spring to the far northern forests. Only the towering pines and freshly sprung grasses were witness to the birth of the Lumen litter, strong in number for their breed – four healthy pups were brought forth, blind and small, into the soft glow of the morning sun. Two females, Alsviar and Mani, and two males, Arvakr and Itah. Itah was by far the biggest of the litter, exceptionally healthy, and was able to easily push around his still-helpless siblings.
12-48 WEEKS
Their mother was a good mother, however, and all were nurtured and well cared for. They grew quickly and with little incidence of trouble – that is, until the pups were able to hear and see and move about on their own. As they emerged from infancy and the mother returned to the small family pack of Lumen, it became evident that Itah’s eyes were strangely cold. They were seemingly dull when one gazed into them ,yet, his mother paid no such mind to small things. Itah’s sight was perfectly fine and he was able to play with his sisters.
In the sidelines Itah had caught several glares from his brother, Arvakr. Arvakr was weak, a runt of the litter. Thinking nothing of it, Itah sneered slightly and let his sisters chant at the feeble pup. ’You can’t keep up, Arvakr, you’re too weak, Arvakr.’ They would say as they happily played without him.
Itah didn't want attention received from his parents, in fact, he hated it. He hated the way they gazed over him. Always peering at his robust build with expecting eyes. What did they wish him to be? Was he to be their pride? He did not care. Deep in his heart, Itah knew he hated them all. He was born with this hate…it pumped his blood.
Itah’s sisters always pestered him through the days. Acquiring that he must play with them and entertain them. Luckily, one day, Arvakr was able to trick Alsviar to go into the forest to find a beautiful collection of flowers. As Arvakr laughed in his successful trick, Itah was clearly upset.
He was still left with Mani.
Mani was the most excitable from their litter. She always wanted to play, run, and explore. Itah only wish Arvakr had ensnared Mani with her sense of adventure...which his brother did occasionally. Although, this time, she had not been around for Arvakr’s trick.
Mani easily found her way to Itah, who could always be found sitting atop the cold rocks in their den. She had asked to play but Itah had quickly declined. He had no wish to play with her. As Mani had continued pestering, the peace of mind Itah held...snapped. Even though a young pup, he was able to bruise Mani as he shoved her into the rocks. He held no regret for this action and didn’t feel inclined to give the now-weeping pup an apology. As his mother and father accompanied the noise of tears, he was harshly scolded.
Unknowing to the other pups, their father often scolded Itah harshly. Itah gained bruises unseen because of all his fur. He had once tried to explain to his mother with his developing vocabulary...but she never listened. Itah's father believed him to be their only chance for a strong male and assumed it best to inflict pain. Their father wanted Itah to become strong...both physically and mentally. Why though? Itah often thought. What he not strong already? He was no runt!
‘I’ll teach you Itah. You will be a strong and fine wolf one day!’
When alone, Itah curled in the smallest corner to sleep, blinking away weak tears. He hated his father for what he did, his mother for what she couldn’t see, and his siblings for who they were. Itah continued to channel these thoughts throughout himself. His eyes welcomed the cold winds and embraced the way they pricked at his fur. Since his tenth beating, never again did Itah shed a single tear....
12-18 MONTHS
Itah's eyes were now profoundly harsh and cold. It was the time to learn and practice his hunting skills. Although there are not many things Itah can look forward to, this was a rare occasion. He gave great pleasure in inflicting his pain on small creatures, excitably proud in their death. It was a prolonged excitement that gave him unexpected happiness. Itah secretly caught sight of his brother, Arvakr, from time to time. Arvakr seemingly took strange pleasure in killing his prey slowly. Somehow, this sparked an interest in Itah. He never admitted it but Itah enjoyed the death and screams of his prey, like Arvakr.
It was amusing.
2-3 YEARS
Itah became a well-practiced hunter. Impressing his father greatly and earning prideful meals.
Something strange began to happen though...his mother never seemed to look at Itah anymore. When Itah engaged into a conversation with her she never provided the comfort of eye-contact.
“Why do you not look at me, mother?” His voice was a deadly cold and often echoed in his mothers head. “Why?” Itah repeated. His mother responded generally with ‘I must attend something’ or ‘Your sister needs something, we’ll talk later.’
His sisters also began to drift from Itah. They never offered to play with him anymore and whenever he approached them they often scurried away.
“Why?”
3 YEARS
They were three years old when Itah followed Arvakr through the snowy forest, and found him slowly skinning a trapped squirrel. His brother laughed and took his kill without comment, but later mocked Arvakr for his behavior. As brothers do, Itah knew precisely the words to stoke Arvakr’s rage – “Don’t even know how to properly kill a catch? Too weak for that? Huh? Can’t even break its neck, can you?”
4-5 YEARS
Itah was now accustom to the neglect of his mother and sisters. His father had ceased beating him and now believed Itah to be too strong. He feared his own son.
Itah had only Arvakr now.
He never really had any conversations with Arvakr through the years; he didn’t have much to say to the pathetic runt. He didn’t conceive passion for the weak and had fallen prey to only a few of Arvakr’s pranks through the years. Itah grew accustomed to them though and never fell for them again.
Secretly, Itah had been waiting. He was waiting for an idea, trick, prank! Something…anything…proposed by his brother that would free him from this grave of a home! He couldn’t channel his hate normally anymore and often lashed out at nothing. The neglect of his family had molded him into a bitter and odious beast.
Alas, Arvakr would provide him the chance needed...
Itah sat atop the stones like he usually did. He was a fair distance from his other siblings, mother and father. Oddly, the crackling of grass pestered him and he turned to see his brother, Arvakr. ‘Ahoy, brother,’ Arvakr shouted, his voice of both panic and excitement. ‘You will never believe what I’ve found. There’s a cave behind that waterfall over yonder, it’s full of crystals! The floor was so wet from the river’s spray that I slipped and rammed my shoulder up against the wall, see? Look, I know how to get back in, you have to come with me.’ Itah swiveled his head slightly, looking over the wound provided as evidence. “Alright, I’ll go” he said, with slight disbelief in his voice.
Arvakr quickly turned and lead Itah across the forest. A grin casually crapped along the edges of his face; for this was the opportunity he had been waiting for!
Itah’s grin disappeared as they looked upon the grand waterfall. The two adolescents stood before the ice, stinging spray, and his brother offered Itah a broad smile.
‘Go on, brother. You go first, my leg hurts from last time.’
The blood from Arvakr’s wound indeed still bleed. Arvak then nudged Itah forward.
‘I just stood on that rock, there – see the inlet behind the water? Just jump right at it, it’s fine.’
“And if I miss, brother?” Itah asked, not letting his profound pleasure at this chance show.
Itah's brothers expression carefully schooled into mild surprise, Arvakr made a show of peering down the fall, and into the river beyond. ‘We are not that far up. Even if you are carried down by the fall, the water below will soften your landing. Look, the river is calm further downstream; you will be fine.’
And so Itah jumped, leaping for nothing but the flat – very solid – face of rock behind the waterfall. He disappeared beneath the angry, foaming waters, deaf to Arvakr’s barking laughter.
When the smaller wolf limped down the embankment to meet his brother, however, Itah was not to be found. Arvakr searched for him – be he dead or alive – but found no trace whatsoever.
Itah had vanished.
The missing – 6 YEARS
Itah’s near-limp body had found its way to the edge of a similar forest to his den. Water rushed behind him, flowing down the river stream untamed. As water leapt from the river to his face, he regained consciousness.
Itah slowly stood, cautiously examining his surroundings. He reached into his memory for answers but nothing came....nothing. There was nothing there.
“Where am I?” his voice echoed. “Why can’t I recall a name?”
He pondered on the edge of the forest for several days in question. A large scar was the only thing he could go on. It seemed fairly new and throbbed painfully. The gash stretched from his right ear, across his back, along his spine, and ended near his left hind leg. It seemed to have healed when he was unconscious.
Itah tried to match it with surrounding objects and possible outcomes but he couldn’t put anything together.
For the remainder of the year he continued his search for answers.
"Who am I?"
Unknown Identity, Forgotten Past – (7-99 YEARS)
Itah found nothing pertaining to his identity. After his hunts throughout the past year, a familiar coldness of hatred embraced him. He enjoyed the deaths of his prey and grew accustomed to having a mind of desired trolling. His hatred for others weaker than him emerged.
Travelers, loners, packs, and others began to be played by Itah. He took pleasure in playing ‘hide and seek,’ a game he twisted into a spiteful chase…often ending in some vague deaths. As quickly as he appeared, he disappeared. Other wolves often stayed clear of the paths he was seen on. ‘Beware the accursed ghost’ they said.
Soon Itah became distraught with the lack of his past knowledge. His routines quieted as he seeped away from his games temporarily. Itah began to hate himself for reasons unknown, he did not understand and hated himself for not being able to. He became a quiet and deadly soul…traveling from place to place as he secretly searched for his past.
As his continued hatred outreached the world of Wonderwhy, he gained a small memory.
[shadow=red,left,300]
H
A
T
I [/shadow]
H
A
T
I [/shadow]
...These letters…
These letters often appeared in his mind when he slept. H A T I...Hati? It was a strange word but without a name of his own he believed it to be his.
The Years to Come - 100 - Current Year
Hati now resumes his 'games' and takes great delight in the pain and suffering of others. His hate for the lives of the pathetic knows no bounds. Finally giving up on the search for his true self, Itah refers to himself as Hati now.
Other: Hati is Itah's true name…spelled backwards. Hati is also Skoll's brother. (Both me and Askr have devoted time to intertwine their history.)