Sakorias cannot remember much of his family. If he strains--which he does rarely--he can remember a younger sister, a dusky blue-grey like their father with similar black paws; he can barely remember his mother, only vague impressions of her black-flames-on-red-pelt body and the warmth that came when she wrapped her body around him at night. He was too young to feel any particular affection for his family before they died. He can remember nothing of their death.

His earliest solid memories were those of his uncle, who had adopted him after his father's death. They too had broken from his uncle's original pack, thinking it best to scatter and evade their enemies, and found refuge in a pack of mercenaries being put together by a large, imposing lupe named Aldath. Aldath was insane, but he treated his men well and compensated them nicely for their work, and there was community and family within the gang. It was in this environment that Sakorias lived and trained, growing up to learn of death as a sort of game, filling out his muscular figure and understanding the arts of slaughter. And he never saw anything wrong with it; it was the only life he ever knew.

[Adolesence]
By the time Sakorias had hit puberty, he was already nearly twice the size of most of his peers within the gang of mercenaries, and incredibly strong. He and his uncle comprised a deadly duo of espionage--Theador would spy upon their victims, worm his way into their inner circles, and Sakorias would follow behind in the path bored by his uncle and slaughter those marked for him. They were efficient, and enjoyed their work.

He made few friends within the circle, in all the time he stayed there; he never saw any particular need to converse with them, and Theador provided everything he needed. Whenever he wasn't killing, he was deep in his own thoughts, and no one ever bothered him to share them. He was thankful of this, if only because he never thought of much he supposed they'd find interesting.

Eventually the band began to crumble. A number of the assassins, after fulfilling their contract requirements, began to leave; Aldath's madness was focusing slowly on a single obsession, and it was becoming unbearable for even the most bloodthirsty among them; there was internal strife now, and their unit was lacking its former cohesion. For the assassins, this was a job and a lifestyle; for their boss, it was a matter of deathly, earnest importance, and it strained on them all.

Thus, the uncle-and-nephew left the group, and struck out on their own to seek a new place which would appreciate their talents. Sakorias especially, who had known nothing but bloodshed, would have been ill-developed for any other sort of lifestyle than that of a specialized warrior; Theador, knowing this, travelled long and weary hours before discovering a pack that suited their needs. It was called the Evil Shadowed Lupe Pack, or ESLP, and it had two standing allies and two standing enemies, reasonably-sized packs that were sure to provide lots of amusement for the assassins. After having proven themselves in a test of skill, they were inducted into the pack; Theador fit in better, leaving Sakorias feeling more alone and isolated than he ever had in his life...but then, it was time he started to grow up.

[Adulthood]