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Monody by Saellyn Yesterday 3:11 am
One Wolf's Prayer by Haakan Yesterday 12:03 am
ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ғ... by Domine Feb 21 2018 5:31 pm
Don't Stop Me by Volkan Feb 21 2018 4:16 pm
Beasts of the Deep (Crack... by Volkan Feb 21 2018 2:33 pm
I Am No Squire [Ptak // S... by Ptak Feb 21 2018 12:50 am
Timeless by Hoplite Feb 20 2018 10:49 pm
Bonanza Weekend! by EurasianL... Feb 20 2018 12:47 pm
The Merchants by Mercy Feb 19 2018 1:41 am
Slaver's Guild Idea! by Mercy Feb 19 2018 1:38 am
Titles Are Meaningless, W... by Asolla Feb 18 2018 6:57 pm
A New Hope by Saellyn Feb 18 2018 6:36 pm
Desert Pack [WIP] by Phess Feb 18 2018 2:57 pm
Burning by Saellyn Feb 17 2018 5:49 pm
Fallen Leaves by Domine Feb 17 2018 2:49 pm
Triskelion Rank Request by Staff Feb 17 2018 10:44 am
Lynx's Meme Thread by EurasianL... Feb 17 2018 4:22 am
Loner Chart by Staff Feb 17 2018 2:28 am
From now on by Ptak Feb 17 2018 12:09 am
Seriously, Why by Ief Feb 16 2018 10:21 pm


  • 4'11" | 189lbs

    Voice - Wendie Malick

    In the eyes of most, Morowen is far from being "pretty". Rather, she's a woman who's struggled through most of her life, enduring the near endless trials that have come with it, and her build is that of a hardened warrior's: strong and sturdy. Ashen fur makes up her thick, unkempt coat; it's thickest around her neck, and the color darkens on the lower halves of her legs, as well as the tips of her ears and along her back. Small patches of scales sit under her reddish-brown eyes and on her muzzle, and two long scars stretch across the left side of her mouth, which is almost always curled in a scowl. Atop her head sit a thick, pale pair of horns resembling a ram's, curved inward to frame her face.

    As a Tengu, Morowen is neither winged nor wingless. Save for a few missing primary feathers, her right wing is perfectly normal, but her left is nothing more than a ragged stump, having long since been torn from her. Being unable to fly with only one wing, she tends to use it as a "weapon" of sorts in fights.

  • Morowen is extremely bitter, and wears her open hostility toward others as though it were a suit of armor. She's also distrustful of strangers and, as a result, will often go out of her way to avoid interacting with those she meets. One shouldn't expect much more than glares and the occasional insult, should they ever find themselves in the ashen wolf's company, but she doesn't seem to know how else to act around others, far too used to spending her days in self-imposed isolation. All in all, Morowen's mood tends to change whenever it likes, and with how short her temper is it can be easy to set her off.

    Stricken by near-constant feelings of inadequacy, Morowen tends to compare herself to others, and often ends up hating them for having the admirable qualities that she doesn't, such as beauty and confidence; she especially envies wolves who possess wings. Nevertheless, there are those whom she believes are deserving of her respect, once they've proven themselves to her. She's also quite confident in her own abilities, as few of them as there are.

    Beneath all of the enmity, however, the ashen wolf is quite the sad soul. Though she's no stranger to pride, she has no real sense of self-worth and carries herself poorly. If one was able to tolerate her for long enough and, in some way, gain her trust, they would catch a glimpse of the lonely, guilt-ridden wolf at her core. Despite all of her flaws, Morowen could be a useful ally, and perhaps even a decent friend, if given the time and patience.

  • Morowen was the third child born to a rather odd pair of wolves: an anxious woman named Videl, who’d never dreamt of becoming a mother, and a proud man named Brynn, who’d always wanted to become a father. Their first children were a couple of bull-headed boys, Aodhan and Cillian, but Morowen never got along with them as well as she did with her sister, Rionna. She was the runt of their litter, much smaller and weaker than the rest of them, and their mother feared that she wouldn’t live long, so she distanced herself from her, not wanting to risk becoming too attached to the sickly child. Far too young to understand the woman’s cruelty, Morowen took it upon herself to look after her sister; she loved her too much to simply let her die, and though hers was nothing like a mother’s love, it seemed to give Rionna the strength that she needed to overcome her weakness. Within a few months—and much to their mother’s surprise—she was the healthiest that she’d ever been, able to run and climb and wrestle with their brothers. It was all thanks to Morowen, who continued to care for her even after her health improved; she'd grown protective of her in those few months and felt that it was her duty to keep her safe.

    The bond that the sisters shared was a strong one, and as they grew older, it grew even stronger. Whereas Rionna became a startlingly beautiful and mild-mannered young woman, however, Morowen became foul-mouthed and broad-shouldered and bulky, rivaling most males in sheer size and strength. As much as she enjoyed the time that they spent together, being in Rionna’s presence made her painfully aware of just how ugly she was in comparison. It wasn’t long before she began to envy her for her beauty, but there was one thing that she had that her sister didn’t: wings.

    As common of a trait as it was for their kind, Morowen shared it with her father, who was the only other member of their family that could fly. With her wings, she could take to the skies whenever she wanted and leave the entire world behind. Her resentment, her bitterness, her ugliness—none of it seemed to matter when she soared above the clouds. She cherished that boundless sense of freedom more than the food that she ate and the air that she breathed, but she also took it for granted. Perhaps some old, bitter god saw fit to punish her for that.

    It was a morning that began like any other morning. Morowen and Rionna both rose at dawn and went their separate ways to hunt, since large prey was scarce in the land that they lived in. When Morowen later returned to their arranged meeting place, however, her sister wasn’t there. She went looking for her, following the haphazard trail that her scent had left behind; it led her to the edge of an unfamiliar forest, where the air reeked of countless other wolves. Without a moment’s hesitation, Morowen started to run, feeling more afraid than she’d ever felt before. After what seemed like an eternity, she managed to find Rionna, but she wasn’t alone. Other wolves had surrounded her—wolves who looked much older and stronger than her, who bore their teeth and snarled terrible threats at her. She had unknowingly trespassed on their pack’s land, and they weren’t of a mind to simply let her go. Poor Rionna was trembling where she stood and licking nervously at her lips, her tail tucked firmly between her long legs, ears pressed flat against her skull. When she wouldn’t speak, one of the wolves went to snap at her, but Morowen threw herself at him, knocking him to the ground before his teeth could reach her sister’s precious flesh. The others were quick to swarm her, outnumbering her five to one; it was an unfair fight, and she considered flying away to avoid it altogether, but she knew that the moment she left, they would turn upon Rionna. Morowen would not abandon her sister, and so she stood her ground against the pack wolves, fighting as though an enraged demon had possessed her. She was a one-woman army, and though the wolves eventually overwhelmed her, she wounded as many of them as she could before she was pinned to the ground.

    Had Morowen known what the immediate future held in store for her, she might have begged to be killed right then and there. But they were cruel creatures that wanted to see her suffer for what she’d done to them. So, they held her down and, as she cursed them to the deepest, darkest depths of Hell itself, tore one of the wings from her back. Her blood-curdling screams filled the entire forest, and when the deed was done, they left, seeming satisfied with themselves.

    After that fateful day, Morowen was never again the same. Having lost her gateway to the skies, she fell into a deep depression that lasted for months, and neither ate nor slept unless Rionna encouraged her to. Gradually, however, she began to shun her sister, believing that she was only helping her out of pity. She refused to eat the food that she brought her, preferring instead to starve herself for hours on end, and slept only when she was at the peak of exhaustion. Still, Rionna did what she could to help her, unaware of how much her kind words and gestures were hurting her. And Morowen endured what she felt were deliberate blows to her fragile pride, though she grew to resent her sister so much that she couldn’t stand to be anywhere near her. Then one day, in a fit of sudden anger, Morowen stormed out of the den that they shared. She didn’t tell Rionna where she was going, or when she’d be coming back; she simply left, and that was the last time that either of them saw each other.

    Morowen spent the next four years of her life alone and wandered the land without much of a purpose. Only recently has she found her way to the strange continent of Aspheria, and it is here that she hopes to try and create some semblance of a life for herself.

  • DAM: Videl


    SIBLINGS: Aodhan ♂, Cillian ♂, Rionna ♀


  • Feb 21, 2018 — 08:59 CST | Replied to Monody in Garuga Mountains.
    Feb 18, 2018 — 05:45 CST | Replied to ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴜᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ. [Blood warn.] in Lunar Subterrane.
    Feb 16, 2018 — 09:47 CST | Replied to ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴜᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ. [Blood warn.] in Lunar Subterrane.
    Feb 13, 2018 — 10:16 CST | Replied to ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴜᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ. [Blood warn.] in Lunar Subterrane.

Character Sheet
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JOINED: Feb 7 2018

LAST ONLINE: Feb 21 2018, 10:04 pm 10:04 pm

LOCAL TIME: Feb 25 2018 at 4:46 am




Portrayed by Agent 9