#werewolf c.

[islandofvalhallahq]

                                            HATI | VALKYRIES

                                                 HENRY CAVILL

name:  aylwin vilde

age:  389

species: omega werewolf

occupation: tailor

+  loyal, empathetic, hardworking

-  suspicious, gloomy, blunt

                                                                    bio

Aylwin grew up in a peaceful pack in the forests of England. Their pack preferred to live more as wolves than humans – shunning most aspects of human society. At age twenty or so, he took a mate from their pack. Within a few years, they had two pups with the help of a packmate and all was good. While the young omega enjoyed the peace that nature brought, he was also rather curious about human society and the technological advances that came about there. Soon, despite his mate being unsure, he began to visit the towns and take up the art of crafting clothes – fascinated by how beautiful finely crafted clothing could make someone look. Eventually, he opened up his own tailor shop and much was well in the world. While he thought the peace could last, it came to a screeching halt in the latter half of the 20th century.

In the purge, much of his pack was slaughtered. This included his mate and child. It was only him and his brother who seemed to be able to make it out alive. Upon hearing of Ragnar, the wolf became curious and listened to him speak. While he was not convinced he could have the blood of a God in him (after all, a God could have stopped the purge), he was also desperately searching for a reason to continue on after the loss of all he held dear. With a heavy heart, he followed Ragnar to the island and has lived there ever since.

THIS CHARACTER IS TAKEN

[islandofvalhallahq]

                                            SKOLL | VALKYRIES

                                            LOGAN LERMAN

name:  balthus vilde

age:  376

species: beta werewolf

occupation: owner of runemaster’s hideout

+ energetic, clever, brave  

-  violent, mischievous, relentless

                                                        bio

Born in the cold forests of England, where his brother found peace and tranquility, Balthus found boredom. There was nothing more he hated than making another round of runs around their small village, everyone knew everyone. Everything was within ear shot of his father. He was constantly in trouble, and while his bother ventured off into the world of humans to make clothes, Balthus was not so productive with himself. He became a warrior for the pack and would spend his days sparring with the others in his pack.

But it was all for naught in the end, as the purge came and the humans hunted their hides. What was unexpected though was the loss of his family. His father, his brother in law, his nephews. The only one from his pack to make it out was his brother. When Ragnar came and began to preach about them being gods, who was Balthus to tell him that he wasn’t one? The younger wolf embraced it with full vigor. He was chosen. He was a god. And nothing could sway him from that belief. Once in Valhalla, he no longer wanted to fight to defend beings who weren’t vampires, so he opened a tavern instead. Always an enthusiast of alcohol, it was a good fit, and he never had a problem getting rid of rowdy guests.

THIS CHARACTER IS TAKEN

[islandofvalhallahq]

                                           FENRIR | AESIR

                                            JOEL KINNAMAN

name: Æthelwulf

age: 778

species: ELDER ALPHA WEREWOLF

occupation: hunter

+ confident, patient, passionate

- cruel, devious, impulsive

                                                        bio

Ulf remembers the day as clear as if it was yesterday, though it’s been over seven hundred years ago. Sword in hand, that particular searing pain only a cruel blade can cause, and the sky so clear it made his eyes hurt. He woke from the daze, shaken by his brother who’s never expected him to become paralysed in the middle of training. It was barely a moment, a kind of deja-vu, this. Steel, a red veil of rage, falling over his eyes. It always did when he fought, to the point where it mattered little who he was facing. Oftentimes the sword master had to break him and his opponents apart, for Ulf became enraged far beyond understanding.

He saw a winding river in his mind’s eye, grey mountains and a man with eyes as blue as the sky. An one-eyed man. A grinning man, a man who’s become a flurry of raven wings and thundering of hooves.

His dreams are worse, and his family, all ancient wolves themselves, ascribe it to the waking bloodlust. But Ulf knows dreams would never wake emotions within him, only memories can do that. By the time he’s thirty he’s been to the Orient, won and lost battles and wars, plundered the Holy City. Always with that insane ferocity that’s left him blind to who he put to the sword. By the time he’s thirty he knows just who and what he’s been in a past life, knows his place on the pyre if he spoke about it.

The middle ages are brutal to his kind, most of them migrate to the North, the islands. For centuries it’s nothing but rolling hills, hunting game and nights by the fire, the happiest days Ulf has ever known. In the late twentieth century he travels Scandinavia, digging up what ever memories he can. An ancient carving here, an ornament there, or the wind-blown landscape that hasn’t changed at all. It’s where the rage comes from, it hammers in his ears, like the call of a drum to war.

Yet again it’s time to lay low, and the modern times prove to be even deadlier. There’s barely anyone left, and those that Ulf knows, dwell deep under ground on their cold, remote island. Perhaps the news of a madman is just another craziness of the world, but Ulf doesn’t seize the opportunity because of hope of salvation. He needs to see, needs to know, needs to make sure that the red veil of rage won’t fall over his eyes at the sight of this man.

THIS CHARACTER IS TAKEN