Artyom
| Last Details | |
|---|---|
| Death Age | 7 years 6½ months (Elder) |
| Sex | Male |
| Personality | Trusting |
| Breeding Records | |
|---|---|
| Death Age in Rollovers | 181 |
| Pups Bred | 0 pups bred |
| Looks | |
|---|---|
| Base | Moss (0.05%) |
| Base Genetics | Special Dark * |
| Eyes | Wisp |
| Skin | Black |
| Nose | Black |
| Claws | Black |
| Mutation | None |
| Secondary Mutation | None |
| Carrier Status | Unknown |
| Variant | Default |
| Markings | |
|---|---|
| Slot 1 | None |
| Slot 2 | None |
| Slot 3 | White Highlights (91%) |
| Slot 4 | White Marbled Unders (56%) |
| Slot 5 | Dark Brown Merle Patches (11%) |
| Slot 6 | Black Cover (37%) |
| Slot 7 | None |
| Slot 8 | None |
| Slot 9 | White Tail Tip (84%) |
| Slot 10 | Black Nose Bridge (43%) |
| Birth Stats | ||
|---|---|---|
| Strength | Speed | Agility |
| 149 | 99 | 103 |
| Wisdom | Smarts | Total |
| 119 | 100 | 570 |
| Birth Information | |
|---|---|
| Moon | Unknown |
| Season | Unknown |
| Biome | Unknown |
Biography
'Artyom' - Meaning dedicated to Artemis; Safety
Artyom never expected to be a father. Sure, he's sired some pups in his lifetime, but he was never around long enough to watch them grow. Always moving from forest-to-forest, his healing touch, quiet guidance, and godly duties leading him onward. Until he met the Sol pack; until he met Willuf. When he joined this small pack he thought he would stay only for a short while, but then days became weeks, weeks became months, and before he knew it it had been 5 years. In all his time he'd seen many pups come and go through the Sol pack, seen them grow into their unsteady paws, once suckling pups, now shaped into hunters and explorers. Some days he'd spend some time in the brooding den, maybe let a litter or two nip his ears and bat his tail around, but it was nothing more than fond appreciation: until Iskra.
Since her arrival he'd known she was different, the way his hair would stand on end when she was around, as if lightening was about to strike the earth in front of him. Her piercing white eyes that he'd sworn he'd seen small sparks shoot from, seared deep into his soul. She was a god, he was sure of it. No "normal" wolves would ever invoke this reaction out of him, not since Fayina, granted they weren't "normal" either. Due to this he felt some sort of... responsibility? He felt he owned it to her, and in some small way to himself, to be her guide. He rationalized by pondering hypotheticals:
"what if she accidentally hurts someone?" "what if she burns the forest down?"
He admits maybe he took to his role as protector a bit too seriously. Towering over her tiny frame as she played with the other pups. Not taking his eyes off her as she suckled milk happily from her brood-mother's teets, watching to ensure she didn't spit fire or anything of the sort. Answering all her questions about the forest and all the "pretty birds" she sees when she's playing outside the den. Letting her use him as a playground, quietly accepting her loud yips and barks of playfulness. training and mentoring her, so one day she can contribute to the pack. bringing her bits prey from his patrols, or small, delicate flower he found along the river. Reading her stories at night, and letting her curl up by his side and she slept peacefully.
And soon those thoughts and hypotheticals of her hurting someone else, slowly morphed into:
"what if someone hurts her?"
Artyom had made it his mission to be her guide, her protector... But he never expected to become her father.
Artyom never expected to be a father. Sure, he's sired some pups in his lifetime, but he was never around long enough to watch them grow. Always moving from forest-to-forest, his healing touch, quiet guidance, and godly duties leading him onward. Until he met the Sol pack; until he met Willuf. When he joined this small pack he thought he would stay only for a short while, but then days became weeks, weeks became months, and before he knew it it had been 5 years. In all his time he'd seen many pups come and go through the Sol pack, seen them grow into their unsteady paws, once suckling pups, now shaped into hunters and explorers. Some days he'd spend some time in the brooding den, maybe let a litter or two nip his ears and bat his tail around, but it was nothing more than fond appreciation: until Iskra.
Since her arrival he'd known she was different, the way his hair would stand on end when she was around, as if lightening was about to strike the earth in front of him. Her piercing white eyes that he'd sworn he'd seen small sparks shoot from, seared deep into his soul. She was a god, he was sure of it. No "normal" wolves would ever invoke this reaction out of him, not since Fayina, granted they weren't "normal" either. Due to this he felt some sort of... responsibility? He felt he owned it to her, and in some small way to himself, to be her guide. He rationalized by pondering hypotheticals:
"what if she accidentally hurts someone?" "what if she burns the forest down?"
He admits maybe he took to his role as protector a bit too seriously. Towering over her tiny frame as she played with the other pups. Not taking his eyes off her as she suckled milk happily from her brood-mother's teets, watching to ensure she didn't spit fire or anything of the sort. Answering all her questions about the forest and all the "pretty birds" she sees when she's playing outside the den. Letting her use him as a playground, quietly accepting her loud yips and barks of playfulness. training and mentoring her, so one day she can contribute to the pack. bringing her bits prey from his patrols, or small, delicate flower he found along the river. Reading her stories at night, and letting her curl up by his side and she slept peacefully.
And soon those thoughts and hypotheticals of her hurting someone else, slowly morphed into:
"what if someone hurts her?"
Artyom had made it his mission to be her guide, her protector... But he never expected to become her father.