| "Try surviving in the wilds of the jungle. Now try to survive in the raging sea of your emotions. Which one is easier?." |
| Strength: Wolfspirit is well versed in the ways of nature, and physically adapted to survive its harsh conditions. She is strong, and has a very keen eye to stalk her prey with. She also has a strong sense of justice, and a deep set compassion for the sanctity of a happy life. |
| Weakness: She is not an educated girl. Her farmer's upbringing kept her alien from concepts of science, logic, and social skills. She is prone to fantasy and takes superstitions literally. Her compassion also stands in her way sometimes as she will not kill without at least some sort of logical reason. |
Statistics:
Clan: Gangrel
Generation: 8th
Nature: Caregiver
Demeanor: Judge
Hair/Eyes: Black/Violet
Height/Weight: 5'5"/131
Age: (appears late teens)
Birthday: May 20, 1397
Date of Death: July 16, 1412 (at the age of 15)
Sire: Luther Blackwolf
 he warm breezes of a cloud scarred orange summer evening sky splashed her face with a harvest scent from the fields. She stood there among the beans and cabbages, barefoot in a muddy linen dress, complete with apron and cap. She had come out to the fields to call in her father and brothers for dinner. The men convened and followed the las back to the tiny wattle and daub house, where the smoke from the nights cook-fire rose from the windows and chimney, filling the air with the scent of hot hearty soup and herby bread. They were a serf family, and the lord had high taxes; but they managed quite nicely. Her father had a knack for business and the fields. She was in a good family. After dinner she went to fetch some water from the well when she glimpsed her friend, a youth be pulled into the forest. She quickly followed. There, under the night sky, shadowed by the canopy of the nearby forest, she watched as her friend was beaten by hairy savages. His screams were muffled as the monsters tore holes in his skin and ran their tickling tongues across the wound. It was shameful, and she was the only one who could help him. The pain fueled her, and with a stick in hand ran out after these blood thirsty brutes. The family never got their water that night...When she woke up she could barely remember what happened. But the craving was grand. She took refuge that night in her victims house. As time went on her tactics would get better, and she would learn what she needed to know to survive. In the mid-1600's she stole a pass that slipped her onto a British ship that sailed from Ireland to the America's, the new frontier. By the time the ship landed in harbor the passenger's and crew were all very sick. She escaped the city before the witch hunt had started. She traveled west into the lands of the redskins where her skills earned her the reputation of a diety, or at least some powerful spirit. She learned a little of their languages, and went through to Mexico. The Conquistadors and their Lasombra masters drove her north back to the Mississippi Valley. She rested their until the turn of the century. With the loss of her Native friends, she took refuge in the city of Chicago. There she would be led on a path to Portage. |
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