Pessimist 🩵 {she/her}

Pessimist

Pessimist was born to a lone wolf—a mother, forced to survive on her own after banishment from her pack—who had been chased away after prey began to dwindle in their territory. Her mother was considered a burden, deeply troubling other packmates with her simple existence, due to an injury she sustained in early puphood. Unable to hunt, fight, or provide, the pack thought it best to eradicate her despite the knowledge that she had fallen pregnant.

After having given birth, she was fearful for her pups. There was minimal food, and her talents were highly limited. She knew that, without change, they qould all perish. Only two of her pups survived past the first week, and only one made it to the second. She named this pup Pessimist, as an ode to the hardships she had endured. A burdened and heavy name, to match her burdened life that she had paved.

Pessimist, ironically, held on to the hope of a better future, and upon the travels she was forced to make with her broken mother at a measly two months old, the two wolves stumbled upon a grotto, flush with life. A soft waterfall heald beneath it a dipped pond. Shallow enough for even an injured wolf to quickly pick up fishing. The pair survived off of fish and sickly rodents, until pessimist was finally old enough to hunt on her own.

She had nobody to turn to for help, and nobody to teach her how to live. Her mother was far beyond living, despite being apart of the mortal plane—she had lost her spirits long before they moved, after being shunned and castaway, and watching three of her children die before her eyes. So, she was forced to teach herself everything she possibly could. She picked up hunting after many failed attempts, knowing that other wolves her age likely could do much more, but undeterred all the same, despite her cursed name and unprecedented circumstances.

For a while, life was simple—quiet, easy. She learned to hunt things bigger than her paws—like beavers and rabbits, all on her own—and she carried with her a new sense of pride. Although not particularly gifted in what she could do, she was finally able to provide for her mother, and that was truly something to her. That was, until her mother's illness seemed to spread.

See, Pessimist knew her mother was ill. Her brain seemed to be constantly festering and fretting. She frequently refused to eat food, despite her own starvation, and she muttered constantly to herself about terrible things that may come to be. However, none of it was ever truly concerning until it seemed to come crashing down at once. In a particularly bad moment of weakness, Pessimist's mother exploded at her daughter—gnashing her teeth and demanding to see her children again, or perhaps it was a request for her pack? The words she spoke were made of harsh nonsense, and Pessimist felt fear when she met her mother's crazed eyes.

Her tongue was like a sword slicing into her pelt, and so with a heavy heart, at the mere age of one year, she decided she would prepare her mothers last meal. It was cruel, in her mind, to allow this sickness to fester. So she wasted no time in gathering the venom from an unsuspecting snake, and lacing the small rabbit carcass she had captured for the ordeal. Her mother quickly passed, showing few signs of struggle and fewer signs of pain. Her last words haunted Pessimist, because they held no ill-will, and simply thanked her for what she had done.

Pessimist, far too depressed to remain in that space, left soon after, in search of a pack that could lift her up. It was on this journey she ran into a small group of wolves—hardly a pack, with the ways in which they seemed to be bickering. The presumed leader, Tunk, handed out orders and seemed to appear exhausted with little support. Pessimist quickly surrendered herself, showing submission to the small group, and stating she wished to join in order to serve a purpose.

Tunk, looking relieved, explained that Hemp—Tunk's dearest sister and their current Beta—was expecting pups, and they were limited in their abilities to provide for them. After Pessimist admitted she was perfect used to taking care of feeble things, she was quickly assigned the role of first pup sitter to the pack. She carried the title with pride, and when Hemp's pups came, she dutifully protected them in the ways she wished she had been protected. She loved them like her own, and helped raise them to join their own packs upon their adolescence.

She was content with her position, honing new skills and providing for pups and packmates all the same. As more wolves joined the pack, she watched numbers grow. She adored each wolf she met, eager to help them find their place in their new home.

Hemp, however, had become more reserved. She left for frequent scouting missions, and while she loved the pack, too, it was obvious that her taste for adventure prevented her from her full potential as Beta. Noticing this, Pessimist politely requested a dual over the position, believing she deserved the role more. She had a mother's instinct, the harshness needed for survival, and she was always around for the pack, despite Hemp's absence. It was her belief that, even though Hemp was a wonderful asset, she had been posing as a temporary Beta already. Hemp accepted the challenge, and although both fought well, Pessimist was victorious.

In the end, although she had lost, Hemp later stated she was grateful for the change. She had been becoming more and more distant due to the pressure of a rapidly growing pack, and she was incredibly pleased she was finally challenged on it, especially by Pessimist, whom she trusted.

After Hemp decided it was time for her to leave the pack, Pessimist found herself growing closer to Tunk. They grieved together, and after years of running in circles around each other, they finally admitted they harbored feelings for eachother. Now mates, Pessimist was overwhelmed with the love she had never been able to share. Despite it being her first relationship, she knew it was the only one she ever wanted to be apart of.