Striker (G2)

Birth stats: 286
11 1/2 months: 302 (+53 puptraining)
Lvl 1 (Adult): 356 (that don't add up)
Lvl 5: 394
Lvl 10: 511
Lvl 15: -
Possible Designs (for shedua & saffron markings):
Wardrobe link 1
Wardrobe link 2

Is there someone- anyone at all who can see me?!

Striker: The Warrior of the Galactic Ones

Being born in another pack that didn't want him, this young pup was sent to an ally pack, the Galactic Ones. Since he was only two months old and unnamed, the alpha at the time, Cherry Root, gave him the name of Striker. She wasn't much help when it came to helping him adjust to his new life, but that didn't mean no one was there to welcome and teach him about his new home.

An older male by the name of Burning showed him the ropes, teaching the young about the pack's traditions and how they functioned. He too, was an outsider pup from another pack. Striker form a bond with Burning thanks to their similar situations. Though, it was never really a strong bond as the two weren't fond of each other.



When Striker was still young, the pack went through many shifts. The death of two pups from the alpha's litter sparked the pack to grow more protective of all the pups. Striker was put under stricter supervision, but that wasn't enough to prevent the death of Queen Daybreak's daughter in the pack. Things only got worse for the Galactic Ones from there.

Mercy, I beg of thee!

It was winter in the grasslands. The new ruler of the pack was the only son of Cherry Root; King Akuma the 'Devil'. He made it a goal to eliminate the sick and the weak, by killing two older males as well as banishing four of the pack's pupsitters. This meant less protection for the pack's pups, and many of the pups themselves were promptly disposed of with the king's own teeth. It was a massacre of pups, and very few were spared by the tyrant king. Striker was one of those lucky few.

Blood Warning Ahead (Not that bad but just in case)

SpoilerA wolf no older than 6 months old was cornered by a vicious monster- a wicked beast. The young male was curled up against the end of the burrow with his tail tucked against his side. His lips curled into a snarl as he spoke out in a raspy voice. "Stay away!" The grey and brown speckled male stared down the monster in front of him. His silver eyes showed his fear, but he attempted to hide it by arching his back and raising his hackles. The monster just stared at him with cruel intentions, licking his bloodied chops.

The beast of red fur simply let out a chuckle after a moment of silence. The pup's fear only seemed to briefly amuse him. "You are in no place to speak to me in that tone, pup. Not like you're getting out of this burrow alive," the monster said with a sneer, slowly walking towards him. Striker had to act fast before he became another number for the monster's growing body count. His fight or flight senses were the only thing flooding his mind, but he was cornered. There was nowhere for him to run to, so his only option was to fight. As the red beast opened his jaws, the adrenaline flooded through the young male's veins. Striker made the first move.

His nip to the beast's nose was so fast that the beast had little time to react. "Ow," the monster yelped, rubbing his bloody nose. "Why you LITTLE-" He had no time to finish his sentence when the pup suddenly lunged forward, landing a ferocious bite on the beast's throat. The monster roared in pain, stumbling back in utter shock at the young male's resistance. He shook his neck furiously, scraping at the pup's back and shoulders with bear-like caws. Despite the pain with each new cut, Striker didn't loosen his grip- not even a little.

The beast was forced to crawl out the burrow with the dull speckled male still latched on tight. There was already a small crowd of upset wolves gathered near the entrance of the burrow. The sight of their tyrant king struggling against a pup only filled the crowd with confusion, snide and concern. Whether the snide and concern was directed towards the foolish pup or the humiliated king was up for guessing. "ROAN! GET OVER HERE AND HELP YOUR KING!" The beasts words held nothing but rage and contempt as he called out to his loyal follower.

From the crowd emerged a muscular, battle scarred brute of brown, purple and black fur. His bronze eyes stared in surprise at the scene in front of him. His king, the red beast, was yelling for help because of a stubborn pup? "DON'T JUST STAND THERE- PULL THIS RUNT OFF," the beast let out another angry roar which quickly put Roan back in motion. He clawed and bit at Striker's hind legs. When that didn't work, he bit down on Striker's scruff, drawing a bit of blood thanks to his large canines. The pup was forcibly removed from the king's neck like a leech being torn off of skin. The young male did tear a bit of skin from the beast's hide. Not only that, but a large clump of fur was removed with it.

The red beast howled in pain as blood dripped from his fresh wound onto the snow, staining it crimson. The bloodied beast lowered his head to the ground, breathing heavily. Each exhale looked like a puff of smoke in the cold air, which was befitting of the king's current mood. His sharp red eyes met Striker's silvery eyes while he was still in the jaws of the darker brute. The young male spat out the clump of reddish-orange fur in his mouth, staring at the beast with wide eyes. Did he really do that to a wolf three times his size? Striker just knew this was the end of the line for him. There was no hope for him to escape this mess.

The brute that was holding Striker abruptly dropped him. Before he could scurry to his paws, he was pinned on his stomach with a pained yelp. The brute's paw was pressed firmly against the pup's back so he couldn't go anywhere. His monstrous claws dug into his skin a little, only giving Striker more pain as the adrenaline began wearing out. Only then did the young male get hit with a wave of searing pain across his back and legs. "I say spare the young lad," Roan said in a low, rumbling voice. It was like the brute's voice was thunder; low but loud enough to ruffle your fur. The beast narrowed his slit red eyes at his follower. If he didn't look angry before, he definitely looked more furious now.

"You want me to... Spare this- this PATHETIC WEASEL ?!" Roan flinched at the king's tone, shrinking a bit in place. This was a side of him that none of the pack had seen before. "I- just thought-" the brute tried to reason with him, but the king wasn't having it. "DID YOU SEE WHAT HE DID TO MY FUR?! MY THROAT?!" The beast snapped his jaws, making Roan shrink further. The red beast lowered his head down to Striker's level, his muzzle rigid and teeth exposed. The pup had been clenching his paws, silently crying; eyes shut from the pain he was in. The moment he felt hot breath against his face, Striker opened his eyes wide. The bloodied monster was now just inches away from his face.

"I just can't wait to tear you o-" blood caught in his throat and the monster began coughing harshly. Some of it splotched Striker's face as he just stared at the beast. "My king!" Roan moved closer to the wounded king, but kept a hind foot on Striker's back. "Azalea! King Akuma is hurt," the brute howled. His call made Striker shudder as it rattled his bones. What was racing through his thoughts at that moment was how he almost killed the monster of a king with his own fangs. I almost killed the king... If I had just bit down a little harder, he would have suffocated! Or maybe... I could've ripped out his jugular! Yes! Then I could've liberated this miserable pack! The corners of his mouth almost cracked into a pained smile, but he was quickly pulled up to his hind paws with monstrous claws threatening to tear open his throat.

"LET ME GO!" Striker thrashed and growled like a honey badger fighting against a leopard. "I'LL TEAR YOUR THROAT OUT JUST LIKE THE KING," he said with a snarling hiss. Like the badger, the fierce but foolish pup was fighting a losing battle- or rather, one that was already lost the moment he was pulled from the king's throat. "Listen kid," Roan's voice was low, like he was attempting to whisper. "I'm trying to defend you here, but you're making things difficult." The brute's claws would tighten around the young male's throat, lightly digging into his skin. Striker's back was pressed against Roan's chest, preventing him from biting or scratching the brute.

"I- we could have trained you to become a fine warrior, but your behavior is too violent to even consider that a good-" Before the battle scarred brute could finish, Striker cut him off with more thrashing and shouting. "I'LL KILL YOU! JUST YOU WAIT!" The speckled male clearly was not in the mood for a lecture from a traitor to the pack. At that moment, Striker was blinded by rage, fear, and his will to live. "I suggest you watch your tongue, or I'll have to rip it out myself," Roan said threateningly with a rumbling voice. His claws dug deep enough in the pup's skin and flesh to draw blood, but he was quick to drop the younger male before he could do worse. Was Roan holding back his anger, perhaps?

Landing with an "oomph" on the cold snow, Striker quickly pushed himself to his paws despite the pain. Before he could go anywhere, his tail was stomped on by the brute. Striker yelped, desperately squirming to no avail. He tried kicking the brute's leg, throwing snow at his face, and even attempted to bite him. Nothing made him budge. In fact, Roan just sat on his tail after a few more seconds of watching him struggle.

"Roan, stop tormenting the pup." A familiar accentented voice from a familiar wolf greeted the pup's ears. Both Striker and Roan looked North, spotting the sepia and pink striped prophet of the pack. She walked over to the king, smearing a green paste on his neck neck wound. Azalea had a fierce gaze on Roan, standing tall with teaming dominance. The brute was quick to get off of Striker's tail, but kept one of his grizzly paws on the young male's back.

"I agree with Azalea," the king spoke up, looking down at Striker with contempt. "You should stop tormenting him and start torturing him!" The red beast would then snarl, walking up to the young male while he was still pinned. He raised a paw, aiming to slash Striker across the face. The only thing Striker could do was close his eyes tightly and brace himself for the attack. The hit never came, however. After 5 long seconds of having his eyes closed, the brown speckled male slowly opened them. Azalea had her teeth on the beast's raised leg. Is she insane?! The king didn't tolerate any wolf touching him like that, so the prophet was just asking to be killed. Even Roan looked a bit nervous. To both of their surprise, all the king did was give Azalea a stare so harsh that it could probably turn a wolf to stone. The prophet was quick to let go after that, backing up with ears flattened.

"Uhm- I'd like to propose that we keep the pup alive." Azalea was no longer as confident as she was just seconds prior. Possibly because the king was much more intimidating when he was angry- when the red beast was unleashed. "Azalea, don't you see what he did to my throat?! I could have died!" The king protested with disapproval, though he sounded more whiney and upset than angry. That was how the king spoke often to Azalea, which is what stumped Roan and Striker considering how it looked like he was ready to maul her after she bit him. "I'll.. Have to agree on Azalea with this one. That's if we're able to train him, of course," Roan piped up, looking up at the king with uncertainty. It was like the battle scarred brute was expecting king Akuma to reject the idea.

The king let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes to think for a moment. Soon, his eyes opened once more as if he had come to a decision. "Put him in the burrow with the prisoners," he mumbled, gesturing with his paw for Roan to take him away already. "And if he survives after the three day trial, then I'll consider." The king's loyal subordinate nodded, lowering his muzzle to grab Striker by the scruff. It was already too late for Striker to make a dash for it. As soon as the paw was lifted, so was Striker's whole body as he was picked up by the scruff. His legs and tail would tuck against his body just like he would've done when he was younger. Except, being carried by the scruff was more painful now that he was not only a heavier youngster, but the wolf carrying him didn't bother to be gentle with his grip.

King Akuma and Azalea the prophet walked forward, with Roan and Striker following behind.They spent a few minutes treading through the snowy cedar tree forest the pack called home. By then, the crowd that gathered around the scene had already broken up. Although Roan had stopped moving by the entrance of the gaping mouth of a burrow, Azalea and the king kept moving deeper into the forest. Most likely, they were heading to the herbalist den. Striker couldn't help but wish that Azalea took longer to arrive. Maybe the king would have been dead on the ground by then.

The tree that provided the shelter of the burrow was massive. It was one of the oldest trees in the forest, and it was one of the few oak trees that remained in the forest. Roan climbed inside, still holding Striker painfully by the scruff. They were greeted by the faces of three young wolves; relatives of King Akuma. Striker never really noticed them during his time in the pack. Most likely because he remained in the puppy burrows for most of his time in the pack's territory.

Before the young male could do or say anything, he was thrown into the burrow, landing at the back of it. "You will stay here and think about your actions. Azalea will come and patch you up eventually," Roan said with a slight growl, not even glancing back at Striker. By then, the young male had grown too weak to move. At least Roan wouldn't have to worry about Striker leaving anytime soon. The cuts and slashes the young male sustained were already very painful. His hind legs and back were in crippling pain, and his head was pounding. All Striker could do was curl up and close his eyes shut as his consciousness slowly faded.