Legends of Belariath

Kry

Born the single cub to Storm Dancer and Onyx Dream, the last full blood of their clan or so they though. They looked upon the small miracle which the goddess had grace them with. So tiny, much more frail then they would have liked was there tiny daughter. Though the others were still trailing them and on their journey to get away, the knew the little pup would not make it through the first week of her new life. So to the nearest village the crept under shadows. Hidden by the fog as the did this task. Their last act as parents and the best they could. Upon a door step did they leave the little bundle. Wrapped preciously in a deer skin pelt. Knowing they smaller daughter would live a life full and happy.

They were wrong.

No one knows what happened to the pair, it is assumed they merely crept back off and were lost within the night. Though the hunters probably found them not long after and properly dispatched of them.

The true tale begins here.

Shadow Storm and his mate O'rinea found the surprise the next warning. The wail of hunger dragging them from their sleep. Picking up the squalling pup and cradling it tenderly they took her inside. Indeed it would be a beautiful life wouldn't it? The first few years were carefree and charming. She was enjoyed by her adopted parents, though their secret frowns and admonished looks foretold the future. Time passed as it is so infamous of doing. The cub grew into a rather obedient adolescent and then a rather timid teenager. Though her body never quite fit their requirements. Soon the lessons of a warrior began and this is where life turned bitter sweet.

She was too frail to hold a sword. Not as quick as the others to learn. Not as swift to react. She was a disgrace to the village. Her adopted parents however took great pride in their own born son. Whom excelled cleverly in all things. Taking a head in his first raid and bringing it back as a prize. It was now that Krys-in-shame was given to Razor, a gift from his parents. Around Kry's neck they placed a collar, with spikes on the inside. Razors lack of humane morality made him a cruel master. Often beating or abusing the small wolven girl for his own amusement.

One evening during a celebration of his newest achievement, he took a torch and set fire to his little slave. Enjoying the sounds of her agonizing cries and her body writhing in pain. Though nature took a hand in helping her as the sky's opened down pouring great amounts of rain. This put out her greatly damaged body left her writhing upon the muddy ground. Since her disgrace of becoming a slave she was tied to a pole outside his house. Made to sleep there, eat only what the pets of the family did not. Scraps not even fit for a dog. This is how she lived.

Brutalized every day, either by being whipped or cut with blades. On a particularly cruel day he took the handle of his blade and for the amusement of all of his friends, proceeded to push the thing tightly into her anus. Revaling in the sounds of her pitiful cries. Then for a reminder he cut a small piece of her ear out. Causing her head to jerk allowing the blade to catch her across the face and muzzle, barely missing her eye.

This went on for years, every night she'd lay praying to whatever goddess heard her that she would just die. That the next morning her cold frozen body would be found a lifeless shell. Her release never came that mercifully. The night before the big annual hunt the village celebrated with drink and music.

Taking her in the center of the gathering, others were given whips, poles, swords. Allowed to brutalize her as they saw fit, striking her with gleeful laugher, ramming the blunt handles into her holes. This continued until shock finally took over and left her weak and unconcious. Growing bored they set off to find other types of amusement. Looking forward to the hunt when day break came. Though it never did. As the villagers slept soundly in their beds. Another threat crept upon silent feet into the town.

Raiders, much like the ones whom had killed Kry's birth parents arrived, breaking into homes and killing the occupants in their beds. Torching the houses.

One man found the badly beaten wolfette tied outside. Lifting her head he looked over her, removing the collar to check for signs of life. He whom held little knowledge decided her dead and left her body there.

The smoke finally woke the hurting wolverness, causing her to blink through the languor haze of sleep. Realizing that the village was burning, noticing the bodies lying around in no particular manner. She also realized that her collar had been removed. Growing still when someone neared she pretended to be dead as the man had suspected.

When he passed she took her time and fled into the nearing forest. Not stopping until her feet bled and her body refused to go any further. She spent the night under a tree and for the first time truly slept sound. When morning broke she set off again. In search of a place where no one knew her and she could start over.

However there would always be tell-tale signs of her life before and one day she would have to face her demons.

Finally coming upon Nanthalion her wounds having healed, the fur regrown to the point where the scars laid hidden beneath the dark storm pelt. She felt this was the place she could start anew. Her first days in the new village was horrible, having been raped she refused to openly speak at first. Though she had learned common as a child.

Finally she met Klaw. It took a bit getting used to but they became friends and eventually lovers. After a short time she was taken to his home when she met his Mistress' mate Kloud. This was definitely a strange being to the little frightened she wolf. Timid and shy she slowly got to know the Drak Sen and eventually grew to trust him as she did Klaw. After some consideration she agreed she would've liked to become his slave. However this too did not come to pass. One day she met Adaran a large wolven male, who's scent reminded her of something familiar, like one knows from a dream. He told her of her true heritage, that she was a blood claw and all the pieces fell into place. She had not been like those in her village because she was not meant to be like them. She was something else, something far greater than they ever knew. Slowly she met others of the pack Shanira Morningkill soon became her favorite and took role of a Mother in the little wolves eyes. Though she would miss Klaw and Kloud she was destined to be more. One day within the Lonely Inn a psycho cat-girl brutalized and raped her to the point of death. A wolven named Daishian Rusou watched and intervened, saving her life and giving her a new name. Krystal. Instantly they would be connected from that moment on. Others she met from then, Lucean a white wolf whom instantly installed attraction and irritation, and of course a few others. Her life was suddenly changing and she could only hope it was for the better. She would become princess of the Blood Claw Clan and from there only the goddess could determine her path.

Her time with the Blood Claws have ended.. Finding her path is now to start and control her own desnity, with her own pack she begins the Crimson Fangs and waits to see what else the strange land will through her way.

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