Corvid | Male | Herbalist

[Corvid]

Character Name: Corvid
Age: 4 Years
Gender: Male
Pronouns: He/Him
Rank: Lead Herbalist

Personality: Compassionate and empathetic, Corvid has an understanding of the pain and suffering of the world around him. He may be quiet and reserved but he's always quick to offer solace and aid to those in need.
Beneath his gentle exterior, Corvid harbors a fierce determination and inner strength from his days at the Mongrel Wars. He's no stranger to adversity, shown by the scars on his pelt, and he usually hopes that a quick snarl or pinned ears will turn anyone away. However, this wolf is all bark and no bite. Corvid hates fighting and bloodshed, the trauma from the Mongrel Wars hanging on his pelt like a flea. But, he refuses to be defined by the traumas that he's endured and instead relies on his instincts and wits to overcome what comes at him.
Despite that reluctance to fight, Corvid really is a worthy fighter when the need arises. The memories of the bloodshed and carnage that he witnessed during the Mongrel Wars weighs heavy on him though. He despises violence in all its forms and tries to avoid it and calm others down if they get too close to a fight. For him, the scars that mar his pelt are not badges of honor, but painful reminders of the lives lost and innocence stolen.
Above all else, once Corvid is an ally, he is fiercely loyal. His devotion to his packmates will be unwavering and unyielding. If that means putting himself in harm's way, then so be it. Because for Corvid, family is not just defined by blood, but by the bonds of friendship and camaraderie forged in the pack.

History: Corvid's story begins not in the Emerald Forest but with a lone traveling female. She had found herself pregnant and without a pack to protect her. It would be hard, raising pups on her own, but seeing the tiny, helpless things at her belly gave her hope. She had to protect her children at all costs.
As the pups grew, she taught them the starters. How to hide, how to search for prey, simple fighting techniques, and herbs. The mother was a wonderful herbalist and little Corvid took to the herbs quickly.
Their idyllic existence was shattered when a group of nomads found them, their intentions cruel and their methods ruthless. Corvid only remembers seeing his brother's body on the ground and his mother's desperate barking before he was knocked out. When he woke, he was surrounded by metal, nomads, and the sounds of other wolves and dogs. The place was loud, the voices of his fellow wolves mixed with the strange sounds of nomads and dogs, and smelled terrible from the fear scents. He could only cower at the back of his cage, hoping and praying that his mother and siblings weren't here.
The nomads tried to break his spirit. The place was full of violence, he was forced to fight and he'd usually lose. When he wasn't fighting, he found solace in remembering his mothers teachings. This herb would help his hurting wounds, this technique would fix his broken paw, or that herb would calm down the headache.
One fateful night, Corvid found himself face to face with his own mother in the fighting ring. They locked eyes for the first time in... They didn't know how long. But Corvid never forgot her eyes. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over Corvid. He couldn't fight her, of course he couldn't! But the nomads with their angry eyes and sharp claws...
Time seemed to stand still as mother and son shared a silent understanding. There was no time for sentimentality, no room for the tender embrace that Corvid so desperately longed for. In the harsh reality of the fighting ring, survival was paramount, and they both knew that they couldn't afford to show weakness.
The mother moved with swift grace, fluid and calculated, as she raced towards her son. With a strength born of desperation and love, she seized Corvid by the scruff of his neck and hurled him out of the ring, her voice ringing out above the chaos of the crowd. "Find the Emerald Forest," she howled, "for that is where our ancestors came from!"
As Corvid landed in a heap outside the ring, he knew that he could not falter. With her final words echoing in his ears, he ran, past the nomads and their sharp things and metal sticks; the scent of outside driving him to an opening. He ran for as long as his legs would let him and has been running since, trying to find the Emerald Forest. Trying to find his new beginning.