Post by Wicked on Apr 27, 2007 1:59:53 GMT -5
Name:: Wicked
Age: 3 years
Breed: 90% wolf, 10% Malamute
Personality: In short, she doesn't take crap from anyone. A true fighter at heart, she'll rip anyone she pleases into shreds without a moment's hesitation. Wicked has a temper that flares at the slightest thing, hotheaded if you will. Though, beneath all this, if proven worthy, she will devote herself completely to who she feels fit. A lifelong companion at the most.
History: Wicked was born in the wild, her mother true wolf, and her father a wolf crossed with a Malamute. She lived a happy life up until the age of three months, until that fateful night.
Three teen boys decided to camp up in the mountains close to where Wicked and her mother were denned. (Wicked's father had long since been shot down by a hunter, along with the rest of the pack, but that's a different story.) They were rude, disrespectful people, and couldn't help themselves but mess with whatever wild animal they came across.
About a day after the humans arrived, Kiche (Wicked's mother) went out hunting. The humans, deciding to go for a hike, ran across the den just as Kiche turned the bend, and could no longer see the den where Wicked hid, or the humans who would now pose a threat. The humans wandered toward the den and one man, called John, crouched down and peered in. Inside, Wicked was bewildered with the huge creature staring at her, but nonetheless she snarled and bore her teeth. The man laughed, and called the other two, Ron and Sid, over.
They spoke in a tongue that Wicked could not understand, but the continued to growl at them. After they finished speaking and making gestures, John lay on his belly, crawling into the den. Wicked yelped and scurried to the furthest back wall she could reach, and growled while at the same time trying to get as small as she could. Then, the man stopped. For a moment he lay there, staring at the pup whom was staring back at him. Then, a huge 'claw' reached toward her, which Wicked promptly bit. John yowled but then grabbed Wicked by the scruff of the neck, before crawling back from the den.
John stood, holding the wriggling, snapping, growling puppy in his hand triumphantly, laughing along with his friends. With Wicked still held helplessly by the scruff, they returned to their tent.
The same day, John, Sid and Ron packed their things into their truck, along with Wicked, and drove back to their home in the city.
There, Wicked was kept in a 6' x 6' dog run, with only a dog house for cover. For three long years she lived there, being shown off to the human's friends, and subject to their torture of sticks and stones. She grew furious hatred toward humans, along with other dogs as she was never given the chance to meet any but her mother. Routinely the humans threw into her cage small animals and dogs, only to watch with glee as Wicked destroyed them. This, is how Wicked gained her name.
One night however, in his drunken state, Ron forgot to lock Wicked's kennel door, and happily, she escaped that horrid place.
Now, she wanders the streets, a beast with a Stand Alone Complex in every right.