Character Name: Conall
Character Age: 23
Character Species: Lycanthrope
Hair color: Dark Brown
Eye color: Amber
Conall grew up with his mother and father. His mother was human and his father an elf. They were fairly well off, as they lived in a sizable cabin in the woods. He was close to his mother but not to his father who had always been distant as fas as Conall could remember.
His mother would teach him in the mornings and he would spend the rest of the day exploring and playing alone in the woods. Pretending to go on adventures and slay dangerous foes just like his dad used to do. Sometimes he would get scrapes and bruises on purpose, to make him look tough and garner the attention of his mother and father. She would dote on him, his father ignored him.
One day they all became very sick. His dad did all he could to find something that would make them better, but nothing he found was effective. Time was running out as his wife was bedridden and they would soon follow. He came home one day bedraggled. He had sold his wedding band in order to afford something, something guaranteed to work. A vial of dark red liquid, he told Conall it was medicine. He mixed it into three drinks, carefully giving the first to his wife. They all went to bed to get some rest and wait for it to take affect.
Conall woke up to the sound of yelling. He stumbled into his parents room and found his dad sobbing over his mother who lay still. It must have been too late. His dad was too late. She was gone.
After a couple days they were already feeling better, which is good because they needed to be for travel. Conall's dad didn't want to stay in the house his wife died in and they were on the move. Staying at inns as they passed through various towns. This didn't leave very much time to grieve. But it didn't matter, his dad wouldn't be around for much longer either...
Conall came back up to their room bringing a plate for him and his father. His father had a fever, but its not like he would've left the room anyways. All he ever did was sit alone in the dark. Conall felt a bit feverish as well, but someone had to make sure they ate.
Conall halted at the door. A terrible growling was coming from within, it must be a monster. He remembered hearing tales about them from his mother. He dropped the food and snuck in, grabbing his fathers sword that was left at the door. Fumbling around in the dim light. Despite his small size he was able to brandish the weapon, holding it out in front of him. The sound of metal alerted the creature which lept at him. With a snarling sound Conall was knocked to the ground and was greeted by a splash of warm liquid. Blood. But it wasn't his. The sword caught the beast in the neck.
He pushed it off of himself, panting. The creature was still alive, but barely. Each staggering breath it took caused it to choke on its own blood. Conall shakily brought a candle over. It kind of looked like a dog, or wolf, but something was off. Its fur was lighter than any dogs he'd ever seen, it was a silvery blond. Like... just like...
His dad's hair.
He ran over to his father wailing. The wolf looked back at his son with sad eyes. It was all his fault, but would his son ever know? That his poor decisions were the cause of all this. But he knew his son would be okay... a hunter of evil things just as he was. His lips curled into a smile as he closed his eyes. Surely his boy would be okay.
But his boy was not okay. As his father took his last breath his son's wails were no longer those of sadness. They morphed into those of terror and pain as his canine teeth were replaced and his small frame twisted into something else. Another monster, but one that was small and meek. Overwhelmed by the stench of blood and the thundering of footsteps and voices echoing throughout the crowded space. Men rushed into the room, taken aback by the hulking creature staining the floorboards. They didn't notice the furry blur that darted between their legs and out the door.
That's too bad. Does he even remember? Why would he.
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