|Name Origin||Shortened version of the Irish "Fionn" which means "fair"|
|Date of Birth||November 1st, 2006|
|Subspecies||90% Canis lupis occidentalis |
|Birth place||Castlegar, British Columbia|
|Favorite Haunts||Deep, old forests|
|Likes||Autumn, hunting, pups, talking, her scars, fighting|
|Dislikes||Deep water, Luperci, ghosts, the cold, snow|
|Most Recent Rank|
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Finn Fidh was born to Ailill ó Maoláin and Cuhlain Fidh on the first of November, 2006. Her mother didn’t even stick around long enough to give her only daughter a name, so the task was left to Cuhlain. Unsure of what to do with a girl pup, the wolf named his daughter Finn, an already masculine name, and topped that by adding on the surname of Fidh, which, according to the customs of the region, was usually only bestowed on descendants of the male gender. This would create a series of lies that Finn would believe in for most of her youth, and live with for the rest of her life. She was born into a small family pack consisting of her father and two elder brothers, Aegnus and Brom. Her other older siblings had perished the year before in a freak accident involving an avalanche.
Finn was not an extraordinary young pup. She laughed, played, ran and mock fought with her brothers like any other, but with one exception: Finn thought she was a boy. Her father had no experience raising a girl child and thus tried his best at raising her as he had raised his four sons. The Fidh family were notorious for being fierce warriors, rabble-rousers and cut-throat mercenaries. Because of this reputation, Finn’s little pack never merged with anything bigger than another group of loners, and only ever temporarily, until her father found some way to swindle them out of all their worldly goods, kill them, or both. Because of this reclusive atmosphere, Cuhlain’s teachings were neither uncontested nor tempered, and became ingrained at an early age. Finn revered her father, and thus his efforts to shape and mold her young mind were quite successful at the time. Some of the tenets that came down from upon high were that the Luperci were evil, women were weak, and Finn should never, ever lay with any who carried the virus.
As Finn grew older, she came into her own as a fighter, and occaisionally came close to besting Aegnus, who was most often her sparring partner. Her much gentler brother, Brom, was her confidant and friend, making sure she was fed and healthy and warm whilst Cuhlain and Aegnus would go gallivanting off around the mountains, picking fights with anyone who looked at them the wrong way. Finn would always end up a little bruised after her brawls, but the day after she turned ten months old, Aegnus took the fight to the next level. Jealous of all the praise their father had lately been bestowing on Finn, Aegnus ripped her right ear clean off, and sent the young wolf running back to the den with her tail between her legs. There was no repercussion for the older wolf, though Finn was scolded by her father for letting her guard down. Always the one to mend the broken, Brom quickly took her aside and cleaned the wound as best he could.
When Finn turned one, her father gave her one last speech about the virtues of being a “true wolf”, and then without batting an eyelash, ordered her brothers to chase her away from pack territory. Aegnus did so with malicious glee, hunting after his younger sister with murder in his heart. He did not intend for the little wolf to escape with her life that day. Brom also took up the chase, albeit halfheartedly, knowing that it was customary for young wolves to be sent off on their own at this time. However, when he saw his brother attempting to truly harm Finn he intervened. Enraged, Aegnus struck the peaceable Brom down and tore out his throat. Finn did not see the act, but she could hear her dear brother’s terrified screams as she fled. After a long day, she crossed the ford that marked their eastern border. Freezing and numbed, she lay on the snowy bank as her brother loped into view.
Aegnus would not cross the stream, he knew Finn had won the right to live, though he begrudged her for that. He licked his brother’s blood from his lips and with a great, toothy smile, shattered the last piece of identity Finn clung too. She wasn’t a male, she was female. A girl, a little, weak, puling girl-child not fit to bear the children of a coyote. Her brother turned away and vanished into the gloom, and Finn fell into a tormented and exhausted sleep in the snow drift. She was found, through luck or design, by her father’s mother, the great and terrible Morrigan Mac Suibhne. The next few months were spent under old Morrigan’s tutelage, in which Finn learned the basics of the skills as a healer. When summer came, she took her leave of the doddering wolf, who was by that time quite insane.
Finn traveled, always moving east. She encountered Luperci from a distance, and tried to join a few wolf packs, but after the death of her brother, Finn had taken on a new trait. She could not say no to any fight, and fought with such gleeful enjoyment that she unnerved many of the pack wolves with her gung-ho attitude. She was rejected again and again, and thus continued on her way, still going dead east. Her views about the world began to change and soften, diluted by the knowledge of her father’s lies. But the kernels of sexism, racism, and inner contradictions still remain deep in her heart to this day, and may eventually bloom again.
Self-deprecating, jovial and good-natured, Finn takes life as it comes without much hue and cry. With such scars and a lust for fighting, you would not immediately expect this sort of temperament from her, but the crux of the matter is this: Finn is polite and kind to any and all, unless they give her reason otherwise. Should they prove rude, she will dive into battle like a duck taking to water, grinning her mad grin all the while. Constant sparring with her brother and father through childhood gave Finn the skills required to survive, but it was the death of one brother by the other that made something snap inside that little brain of hers. Thus fighting has become a form of catharsis, an exuberant relief of pent up emotions and tension that she is unable to express normally.
Though she is genial most of the time, Finn keeps her own counsel, and her deepest thoughts are almost always left unvoiced, unless they are extremely important. She finds it hard to relate to others, having grown up in a small, isolated family, without much contact to other packs. Her father’s views were radical, and for a long time she shared them, but her journey from across the country to Newfoundland has mitigated the intensity of these beliefs. Nonetheless, she remains suspicious, even slightly afraid of luperci who carry the virus. Strangely enough she is also sexist, not towards males, but females, believing them to be inferior. “How could such an opinion be possible when she herself is of the fairer sex?”, you may ask. The answer is simple; until she was one year of age, Finn believed herself to be male (another interference of her father’s).
This has left her confused and anxious over her identity even three years later. Her macabre appearance has not helped matters, as some wolves are quick to judge and drive her away on the principle alone that if she is so battered and torn she must be trouble. Resigned to a life of solitude, (relative solitude, the deer doesn’t count) and aimless, Finn simply soldiers on eastward like a perpetual motion machine, content in the journey and avoiding any thought on what might happen should it come to an end, either through an impassible barrier or her own death.
As to the matter of her scars, there is another inconsistency. Though she loves each scar individually, and can be counted upon to dredge up the weather, the date, the time, the place and what exactly happened to earn the mark, she is somewhat ashamed of her appearance as a whole. She believes herself to be ugly, perhaps even monstrous, and is somewhat envious and fascinated by those with sleek fur and unscarred bodies.
Finn loves to talk, and because of her eidetic memory she can talk about a great many things without every crossing her tracks once. She hoards stories like a crow hoards shinies, but unlike the bird she is always happy to share them with others. She is loyal to those who earn her trust, but these days that number is very small, perhaps nonexistent.
The tradition from Finn's part of Canada is that the male children are given the surname of their father, and the female children are given the surname of their mother. Finn is one of the few exceptions, as her daddy screwed up (purposefully?) and gave her his surname. It should be noted that although Finn's family is huge, beyond her brothers and father she has only met her maternal uncle Alastair and her paternal grandmother Morrigan.
- Maternal Grandmother:
Cairine ó Maoláin
- Maternal Grandfather:
Conn ó Dubhuir
- Maternal Aunts:
Mab ó Maoláin
- Maternal Uncles: Alastair ó Dubhuir
- Maternal Cousins: Daithí de Burke (M); Máire Stiobhard (F)
- Mother: Ailill ó Maoláin
- Paternal Grandmother:
Morrigan Mac Suibhne
- Paternal Grandfather:
- Paternal Aunts: Macha Mac Suibhne,
Nemain Mac Suibhne
- Paternal Uncles: ---
- Paternal Cousins: Alaric MacTavish (M); Rósín Mac Suibhne (F), Kairin Mac Suibhne (F)
- Older Siblings:
Ailfrid Fidh(M), Cael Fidh(M), Aegnus Fidh (M), Brom Fidh(M)
- Younger Half-Siblings Hiolair ó Mordha (F), Conleith Fidh (M)
- Nieces: Maeve ó Mordha
- Nephews: Kane Fidh, Cadogan Fidh, Lonán Fidh
- Current Mate: None yet
- Current Lover: None yet
- Past Mates: None
- Past Lovers: None
Finn is incredibly skilled in the art of fighting. Though she has had no formal education, other than her father and brother whaling on her and calling it "sparring", she knows how to stay alive and how to hold her own. She has become somewhat cavalier towards injuries, and can take quite a beating before going down.
Finn is can be incredibly quiet when she wants to, and often catches most of her prey by sneaking up on them. She can't hunt larger animals, as they are too difficult to take down by herself. Mice, foxes, rats, grounded birds, badgers, weasels and rabbits are all fair game however.
Finn loves stories, and loves to tell them. Give her one minute and she can remember a story from her youth. Give her a ten and she can compose an entirely new one! Correspondingly, she has an amazing memory, and rarely, if ever, forgets what she has been told or witnessed.
Finn learned from her grandmother how to dress wounds, stop bleeding and cure infections. Her knowledge is patchy at best, and hard to put to use because she has no opposable thumbs, but what she does know has kept her alive so far, and she makes a stunning argument for that fact, despite all the scars. In the future, she might go looking for someone who can teach her more.
- Eidetic Memory
- Low self-esteem
- Conflicted mental state
- Near suicidal desire to fight
A very large red deer who has taken to dogging Finn’s footsteps. He usually stays out of range of a quick dash if other wolves are around, and can be counted on to sense if something is trying to sneak up on him. Finn allows his presence with her usual good nature. She thinks of him as a sort of half-tame pet, and will often call him a "horned horse".
The two are able to communicate roughly through gestures and movements. Both get frustrated with the other when they are unable to grasp what is being said to them. Finn will usually just start grousing again, or nip lightly at Alastair’s sides to annoy him, but Alastair will usually lower his head and charge the wolf if she tries anything more.
The wolf isn’t really sure why Alastair is here and not part of a herd. He is large and quite fearsome with his full head of antlers, but seems to dislike other deer. She named him Alastair after a vaguely remembered uncle who had similar features.
Tall, rawboned and shaggy, the immediate impression of Finn is that she’s been put through the ringer and came out ready for more. The she wolf is scarred beyond belief. Snout, belly, back, sides, legs and tail, all have ripped and torn. Her coat, whilst hiding the worst of the abuse under curls of dappled gray and black, can’t camouflage everything. Finn is missing most of her right ear, and long scratch marks barely miss her right eye. Part of her left lip has been torn away, leaving her with a permanent, albeit entirely unintentional snarl.
She has lost at least one toe from each foot, sometimes more, giving her the habit of always shifting and swaying to keep her balance. Her tail, broken until markedly crooked, is missing about half its length. Because it has been smashed and reset so many times, it is almost as prehensile as that of a cat’s, and is a decent indicator of Finn's current moods through its quirks and movements. Despite all these physical handicaps, Finn still manages to be a terrific fighter, and quite savage once she's in "battle mode".
Her fur, though mentioned before, deserves another glance. It is a mix of shades, sometimes black as soot, sometimes slate, sometimes the blue-gray of storm-clouds, and it allows Finn to hunt her prey through stealth, hiding him amongst the sun speckled foil-age. Her coat is curly, and appears to be quite thick, but it is the opposite that is true and Finn often suffers from the cold during the winter and autumn months.
Her meagre weight contributes to her natural dislike for the cold, as she has very little fat on her bones, and longer bones than most. She is tall, forbidding due to her height and gauntness, and not very approachable based on appearance alone. Her eyes, the gunmetal gray of a stormy lake have a habit of flashing like lamps in the darkness. She is often only noticed at night because of her eyes; even when moving she is next to silent.
- 37 inches tall
- 59 inches long
- 90 pounds
Finn's hearing is a little dodgy due to her missing an ear. She keeps the torn one close to her head, and relies only on the other to catch sound, flicking it about wildly to pick up everything.
Finn is missing at least one toe from each foot. This gives her a sort of swaying motion as she tries to keep her balance. When hunting or stalking she has no trouble keeping steady, it is only when she's standing still that she appears to be trying to gain her sea legs on land.
Finn is missing most of the upper lip on the left side of her face. It gives her an unnaturally feral and vicious appearance, especially when she smiles. Finn is aware of how creepy she can look, and when trying to give others a sense of ease keeps her mouth firmly shut.