Thornfoot

Name: Thornfoot
Date of Birth: Early Winter 31 (October 4 2022)
Natal Pack: Nightfallers
Joined: Mid Winter 32 (October 30 2022)

Mother: Calm Before the Storm
Father: Signal Flare

Purchased via TC for 500 SC. Customised for 1 GC.

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Hailing from a large pack in the tundra, Thornfoot was born to a line of successful chasers. Eos negotiated with the pack to have Thornfoot come to Pont-y-Rhedyn, and though he stayed with the Nightfallers for the duration of his training, he would ultimately choose make the journey south as a young adult.

Though unusually stout for a chaser, Thornfoot was incredibly proficient at his job and wasted no time in establishing himself in the newly formed Helfa Coed. He wasn't particularly amiable with his team mates, in fact he was rather crotchety, but he communicated well enough to get the work done.

Following a severe altercation with a herd of wild boar, the party was left in shambles. Thornfoot lost his right eye and his left foreleg was crushed, leaving him disabled. The sudden loss of job and physical prowess only bred malcontent in the young male. He spent some time sulking as he recovered, and even considered leaving the pack like many of his peers. He struggled to travel far enough for that to be feasible.

He learned to live with his injuries over time, but never regained use of his leg. Eventually he grew bored of his moping and took up pupsitting duties with Aniara. He took this new work as seriously as he did hunting, and while that didn't make for a particularly fun pup sitter, it did make for an effective one. He was well trusted by the other packmembers to care for the pups, and was even preferred by some. As discontent with his lot as he may have been, he took great pride in this.

Thornfoot never took a mate or partner - he couldn't seem to tolerate anyone long enough for such arrangements. He maintained his own den within the central pack area. As grumpy as he was, he would form a strong friendship with Addfwyn, who was similarly miserable. The pair would often spend long afternoons sunbathing outside their dens, sharing their woes and complaining about the youths. Miserable old gits, the pack would call them. They wouldn't change them for the world.