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Healer Cliche

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Lead Healer Cliché
Lead Healer Cliché

Posts : 115
Join date : 2013-10-07
Age : 20
Location : Neverland

Wolf Information
Gender: Female
Age: 5 Years Old
Purchases: N/A

Healer Cliche Empty
PostSubject: Healer Cliche Healer Cliche Icon_minitimeOctober 7th 2013, 19:38

Name: Cliche

Gender: Female

Age: 3.5 Years

Pack: Erenyx "evil and chaotic"

Rank: Healer

The female is averagely built, with thin toned legs carved from the bit of training she received in surviving, possessed with common knowledge and greatness of the works of herbs for healing. Her eyes are an orange, accompanied with flecks of burning amber ashes to dance around her iries, able to keep out for any danger and easily targeted. Besides her magnificent pair of orbs, the fae inherited the color of her father, in which includes soft greys that mix with lighter shades of a pale brown and tints of darker greys towards her back and the length of her snout and ears.


Within the harsh snow and ridden forestry, a nervous Delta male paced outside the walls of the caretaker's den, waiting and frantically walking back and forth as he waited for the news to be brought. When he had just to begin to think she had not made it, one of the head Caretakers slowly emerges from the darkness and welcomes him in with a warm smile to see the litter of one laying at his mate's side. It was their first, but not of the last that were soon to come in the future they prayed. The pup was female, and held the looks of his own, aside from her mother's harvest amber hues and small body, she was a spitting image of her father alone. When introduced to the pack, they took her under their wing and brought the fae their blessings of welcome, and soon enough putting her into immediate training at Apprenticing age. Being the Deltas, they taught her at first paw how to fight and survive, and when she was put at the pack's attention of what she liked to do most in, she proved her greatest abilities in Healing over all. Her name was Cliche, unknown of the reason behind it, besides the likeness it brought to some's attention. Strikingly beautiful she seemed, but she was best described as a sly fae, easy on the eyes, but more or less a fox-like wolf when it came to small talk.

At the age nearing two, a terrible case of diseases spread throughout the lands and as the weather climates shifted, so did the position of the wolves within their pack. Lost on a blizzard, they parted unintentionally, and Cliche was forced into never seeing her other packmates again. Their Alphas being the few that were with them, lead the other wolves, as well as her, to be put in the state to rank further up so they'd have someone to lead. Thankfully, the Elites took hold and led them to safety. Cliche and the rest worried furiously to heal wounded and the sick as they prepared for more to occur, and at last, it resided to spring a whole another month later. More and more wolves would join, and soon they flourished into a wonderful pack like they once were again. A healer, much older and wiser than she mentored the younger fae until she reached eligible age, taking on the amounts of herbs and what-nots to heal perfectly by herself. She is now more of the independent type, but when things are too tight to judge or complain, she worries of nothing else but to get the job done correctly.

When time slowly moved along, a wild-fire struck up in the summer, scorching the fields easily with one strike until it caught onto wood. It spread rapidly, and Cliche and the rest were left with no other choice but to run like the wolves they were. Running away, she suddenly heard the cries of a mere pup, howling and whining to be freed as she discovered it was caught underneath a small branch. Quickly, the Healer removed it and grabbed the offspring before another ablazed branch could drop upon them. She panted, sprinting this time with the pup's burned scruff between her teeth. A gasp screamed from her mouth as a huge tree fell over in her path, flying up ashes to burn in her eyes, whipping her head away so she could soon see, but tripping over something short to loose hold of the pup. It screamed when it hit the ground, and Cliche got to her feet, widening her eyes in fear and horror as the small wolf fell into the fire and went up in flames. Before she could do anything else or shriek, the fae broke out of her revery and shook her head, howling on her way out of the fire, where she then began to start her long journey to shelter.
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