☼ Lore Clan | May Flowers Event ☼

I got super inspired by this contest so I went straight to designing an old grump!! I'm not sure if it goes against the designing part of the rules, but I did give him a name and a vague title. It can totally be changed if someone who writes his backstory gives him a different name, or if you want me to wipe it off from this concept art I can always edit it as well. Anyways, I'm excited to see more entries :D!!!!

Maximus’ Backstory:

Even though he has spent many of his older years as a lone wolf, Maximus was born into a small pack of wolves residing in the grassy plains just outside a forest. His pack was peaceful and led by a pair of mates who were pacifists as well. Their way of life was to simply exist and move throughout the plains as they travelled with their prey. It was a good way to live, and Maximus grew up to fit perfectly into the role of a hunter. He was even granted permission by the leading couple to have a mate and pups of his own, who he cherished tremendously. However, things took a turn when a sudden foe appeared to challenge them. A new pack of wolves had been driven out from the taiga one particularly bad winter. Even though they were starving, this pack was much bigger than Maximus’ and trained to fight. Before his pack even had the chance to offer them help, they were attacked and slaughtered by the rival pack. He attempted to save his own family and run away, but in the end it was all hopeless.

When the dust finally settled and he realized he was all alone, Maximus’ thought about how the memory of his family now resided in his mind alone. He wondered how many other wolves were out there whose stories would never be known. So Maximus swore to himself then and there that he would dedicate the rest of his life to honoring his family by telling the stories of any wolf he comes across. As the years went by wolves began to spread rumors of “The Curator” wandering in the woods. He was a wolf older than the stone in the mountains, and he knew every secret uttered on the lips of a wolf. Pupsitters use his legend as a way to keep pups out of trouble or else The Curator will come by and tell them about all the naughty things the pups have done.

Maximus doesn’t mind the tales told about him. He’s grown into quite the old grump that even he believes the tales to be true sometimes. Even though he has so many stories to already tell, he knows his work of keeping track of wolves is not over yet. Not by a long shot.

AAAA I love him! This is a fantastic entry, Kantee! He's so old and grumpy ;~; If you'd like, you can write something about his background to include his name in the second competition. c:

Ooo I’d love to! Is it alright if I just edit it into my first comment or should I make a separate one? :0

You can edit your first comment if you'd prefer! Its entirely up to you c:

I went ahead and finally added his backstory! Even if he doesn’t win I’m already attached to this guy now :,D

I love his backstory, and how you connected it to his dedication of story telling now! :,) He's definitely a strong contender!

Charlie Elkskin was once apart of a large pack known as White Home.
He loved his pack with every ounce of his body, and his father, the Alpha, could see it. Charlie wanted to become a scribe of his people, to share their stories and to spread their beliefs.
But his father had other plans.

See, the Alpha of White Home didn't desire a scribe as a son.

He wanted a warrior.

So, instead of becoming a scribe of his pack, Charlie was sent to the front lines of the many battles of his pack.
Charlie hated it, every moment of fighting and baring his teeth frustrated him, but he used that spite and anger to keep himself alive.

I'll make sure father knows about this when I return, was the thought that often echoed through his mind.

Charlie became known as a fierce and angry fighter, his pelt marred with many scars from his battle.

But after one fateful instance, where on patrol his entire back was marred by a grizzly bear, he decided enough was enough.

Donning the grizzly's pelt as a coat, he returned home.

Only to find that his battalion had been fighting a fruitless war, and that his pack had been destroyed from the inside out.

The others in the battalion had been born and raised on the front line, having little to know recollection of what their pack had been like, and so they left, seeking new places to fight and tear to shreds.

But all Charlie could feel was cold, hollow, remorse...

If father had let me become a scribe... His mind hissed. I could've continued our traditions... I could've kept us alive, even if we were gone...

But all he had was faint memories and soft whispers in his ears of what his pack was once like, the battle front having taken up most of his memories.

Charlie picked through the wreckage of his home, seeking anything to remind him of his time there, but the only thing he found was his father. Unlike the other bodies amongst the scattered pack, his father was still alive. But only barely.

"Charles..." His father wheezed. "Why... Why didn't you... Come help...?"

In that moment, Charles was reminded of his rage and spite towards his father.

He pressed a paw into his father's throat.

"I was on the battlefront, like you demanded," he sneered quietly. "Remember this, Father; your pack could've lived on through the voice of a scribe, but your desire for battle has ended you once and for all. The Guild is no more, and it will never exist again."

His father's gaze lifted to his in a moment of fear, but Charlie did nothing.

His father would die out there on his own. Charles had other things to attend to.

Though he did not remember his pack, he gave up his life as a warrior, instead seeking the knowledge that his father had torn from him.

He travelled the world for ages, the bear pelt on his back becoming a deep mossy green from all his travel, hardly resembling his past life when he was marred by it.

But then again, it reflected who he was; as he learned more and more about other packs and their beliefs, the more he forgot about who he had been on that battlefront.

His spite had always been there, but no longer was he angry.

He was... Hungry, for the information of other packs. For the stories they held.

And now, as he neared his older age, he decided that he would share those stories as well, earning him the title of "the Magister."

:O A lovely entry, Eri! An interesting twist for certain!