Zevran the Crow

Born second son of the strongest hunter in his Pack, Zevran lived
most of his life on the stretch of the Lands swallowed by Sand. His
Pack, known for their accomplished Hunters, doted over him his entire
life. But Zevran, though growing to be quite the charmer, found little
interest nor enjoyment in anything. He felt rather empty with all the
luck and affection showered on him. For almost his entire life, he would
hardly need to strain himself. It angered him to no end. Something was
just missing.

One day a cloud of Crows passed across their
territory. Drawn by their cries and calls Zevran chased after them to
the East. Against his Packs pleas and threats, he declared himself an
Exile and strayed after the Crows. It was as if he followed an invisible
string.

On his first night afar from his kin, in his dreams he
saw a shifting glow dancing in front of a lake. The shape of this other
was bright and welcoming, drawing him closer, but he awoke before being
even close enough to make out it's shape. Each night he would dream of
this shape and the lake, and each passing moon the shape would become
clearer and he would be closer. Yet it shape illuded him. All that he
was left with was the glow of the sun piercing through two yellow eyes.

Lone
striding across the land, dismissing other clans and prowling through
hostile territory, Zevran witnessed the Crows descending upon a
mountain. Following them further, after many months of travel, he
reached a lake. The very one from his dreams. Just like in them, he
found someone lying in front of the banks. A lone grey wolf, who's eyes
were brightly glowing in the golden blazes of the sun. This ones fur was
littered with markings of the colour of Fall. Weak and frail he seemed,
with his body having seen battle recently. Without word he coxed his
head gently and smiled.

"The Old Dark did not lie.", he said, "Such warmth and comfort your gaze brings me..."

The
wolf introduced himself as "Grey Warden". He was stripped from his name
long ago and denounced his tribe, just like Zevran. Their reasoning
different, but their goal seemingly entwined. As they spoke more, Zevran
felt a certain connection to this lone wolf. The two made a cave at the
lake their home and decided to stick together. Slowly, day after day,
they grew closer. Knowing their affection for one another would be fuel
to other packs ire. However, Zevran decided not to let this get in their
way. For the first time in his life he found fulfilment and true joy.
He would not let anyone take it from him again.

"The Crow", he
called himself from now on, leaving his true name only to his Grey
Warden and the Old Dark, which seemingly watches over them.