Full Name: Senara
Race: Rathari
Sex: Female
Age: 25
Height: Beast: 6 ft | Lycan: 5'8'' | Zoan: 5'6''
Weight: Beast: 200lbs | Lycan: 130lbs | Zoan: 115lbs
Birthdate: 1st of Glade, 95 AOS
Birthplace: Low City, Kalzasi
Profession: None, yet
Housing: Brianne's Cottage (Kalzasi Outskirts, Wild Kings Forge)
Partners: Currently single
Titles: None
Factions: None
Fluencies: Common,
Conversationals: None
Ineptitudes: None
A P P E A R A N C E
As a human, she carries herself at a shorter height than one would assume based on her resilient, bold personality. Long brown hair cascades down her back and brushed up against her toned back. Marred with countless scars from her childhood, each one is a horrific reminder of the whippings she received as a child when she would displease her father. But unlike many in her shoes, she survived. Years of hardening her mind and soul find themselves now on her brow. A constant scowl nearly always evident as she judges the world around her and laughs at those who are surprised by it's cruelty.
And though the girl carries a thin frame, make no mistake. She is as powerful as the mountains, and more loyal to her people than an eagle is to the sky.
W O U N D S / A I L M E N T S
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P E R S O N A L I T Y
Aggressive. Quick to anger, and slow to trust. Though, perhaps at this point in time it would better be called 'unable to trust'. Or maybe trust is not a word she has ever understood. Senara prefers solitude out of fear and anger- though she might call it wits. It has been seventeen years since interacting with anything other than the prey she's killed (or attempted to), or the predators trying to kill her. And while the knowledge that shifting and blending into society is in the back of her mind, it remains a dangerous, vulnerable idea, especially considering she has no idea how to blend in to a society that she was never fully introduced to anyways.
Who is she? She doesn't know anymore, and part of her wonders if she ever did. All she knows is survival is the number one priority, and that one thought may just be the only one left.
M E R I T S
Passionate - Be it a fight or a craft, Senara is unbridled in her passions. Though it may take her some time to welcome such passions into relationships.
Persistent - Never one to give up. She believes effort is wasted unless used to it's full potential, and then pushed further.
Independent - While this may be considered a flaw as well, Senara is fiercely independent. And plans to stay that way.
Resourceful - Everything in front of her is a way to succeed. Even the horns of a charging predator can be used to her benefit.
Protective - It would be unwise to even look at one of her chosen people the wrong way, lest you wish to end up between the jaws of a beast.
F L A W S
Selfish - Senara is not the type to be kind or giving if it does not benefit her. However, deals can be struck with her if she's in the right mood.
Shameless - She cares not for the expectations of society nor their rules or titles. In this way, her actions are always her own, no matter where in the world she is.
Temperamental - Easy to anger, Senara is rarely able to control the instinctual reaction to the world around her.
Stubborn - Once she sets her mind to something, she will follow through. Even to the detriment of her own body.
Paranoid - Years of betrayal and cruelty have left the girl with a lifetime worth of trauma. None can be trusted but herself.
H I S T O R Y
Upon Senara's birth her mother vanished. Leaving nothing but a brooding, angry husband and her newborn child behind. The man she came to know as father tortured the child. His hand becoming as brutal as the Frosts harshest storms and as loud as thunder. One might say she grew up with the only warmth she knew coming from the stinging of her skin after a drunken assault. He was ashamed of her. Shamed for her race, her lineage although he never quite specified what it was. Her father, a failure of a business man, locked her away for most of her childhood, only unlocking her door to feed her or send her off to buy him alcohol. Lest he become a murderer like it was rumored he already was. For years this continued.
"Surely it wasn't all bad"- almost, but if we count the good in her childhood you would count the singular friend she made when she would escape through her bedroom window for a day out in the real world. His name was Penny, and he was a rat. You would count the laughter she brought to the neighborhood strays who often forgot what smiling was, unknowing that they laughed at her, not with her. Had it not been for this unfortunate misunderstanding she may not have lasted as long.
But one day she was caught. As she slipped back through the window of her room at dusk her father stood in the doorway, arms crossed, face reddened with anger. He wreaked of strong alcohol, as if a singular match in the room could set him ablaze. It was the same picture, the same story she'd endured every other night for the past eight years. But unlike every other night, he didn't stop. After nearly thirty straight minutes the wailing and bleeding had covered the room in the smell of dread and death. But- she decided that day that it was not hers. Within that moment, that split decision, her first transformation took hold.
That was seventeen years ago. She has not changed back after leaving her fathers corpse in multiple pieces on the floor of their tiny house. She had tried to find shelter in the hearts of her neighborhood friends but they ran- screaming- for what they saw was a horrid beast covered in hot crimson. In the following days doors locked in her face, frigid water was poured on her at neighbors doorsteps. She became a beggar, then. Too afraid to shift back into her zoan foam for fear she could not defend herself otherwise, the girl played the act of stray dog. But a dog is much smaller than a dire wolf, and people feared her. And eventually, she ran. If no one would accept her, then she would make her own life outside of the city of lies that had been build to taunt her.
But life outside of the city has been no kinder. Multiple failed attempts at joining packs, being hunted by other dangerous predators - including the city dwellers themselves who come up to hunt 'game'- has crushed her once bright hopes of building her own life anew. Perhaps she too is meant to vanish, she wonders. But at least if she does she vows to go out on her own terms.
