Sleeping Terror

[Mima]

[imgright]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... terror.gif[/imgright]Sleeping Terror is an old doe, known for her fierce vicious streak and- to a lesser extent- her protective tendencies.

Born to a smaller mountain tribe, Sleeping Terror was instilled with the values of Totoma society since she was a lamb. And when she was younger, she embodied all the horror stories. Unintelligent. Violent to a fault. Stubborn, with the heart of a beast. But there was no honor in her. She was a prodigy in battle, battles waged for all the wrong reasons. Tribemates angered by her sloth, her disrespect, her attitude... All fell victim to her horns and hooves. She was given her name not as a badge of honor, but as a warning to other kin that she was not worth the trouble.

She left her home with blood on her hooves and scorn on her name, her plates cracked and broken from hundreds of fights that no longer mattered. Had they ever mattered?

Her life in the swamp has been... peaceful, by comparison. Having carved herself out a home near the northernmost part of Matope, the closest place to her birthplace she can have, she tends to a field of wildflowers along with a great swarm of moths. While idyllic, her territorial and combative nature has made this pursuit heartrendingly lonely. She spends more time alone with her dreams and her moths than with other kin, in an attempt to escape her past. Or maybe, at times, listening for a dream that will give her a "purpose" in life like the names given to the other swamp-kin. It is a dream she knows will never come.

Hopeful she had been given a glimpse of what the other kin saw when she dreamed of the Obelisk, she climbed the mountains to find answers. Yet she found only more questions. She had wanted to prove to herself she was somehow different, and better from her time in the swamp. But in the moment, she was so happy to embrace the worst parts of herself. To follow Swarm's orders to hunt, to kill, to eviscerate and smash. More and more chips on her armor and scars in her flesh collected. More and more memories of kin and animals she wounded in her pride and stupidity piled up in the back of her head- her only solace being that she did not personally cause any kin's life to come to an end. But it is a hollow victory.

She does not know what she is now, having returned to a second home a second time, yet again the same kin who had left it. Lost and confused. Guilty and bloody-hooved. Was protecting Swarm worth it? ...Who's to say, if she can't go back and change the past?

There is a constant, nagging emptiness in the back of her soul like an itch she cannot scratch. A fear she will never be anything more than her basest nature, that she will live and die no more than a beast.

She is aimless, and it scares her.

Naming Story: she takes it in stride.
Storytelling: He-Who-Died-Dishonorably
RP Points: in chronological order IC, not OOC
+ (Story) Art by Mima (2)
the spinning of the seasons (5)
Journey To The Mountains (5)
Energy To Burn (6)
Infested Bear (6)
The Mountain's Shadow (5)
+ Art by Mima (2)
Ill Suited (6)
Bear With Me (6)
Finale ORP (7)
+ Art by Scaradango (4)
Snow & Sulfur (5)*
sleep talking awake (5)*

60/50
*ongoing, but she has hit the word count

So... why? Sleeping Terror is a kin whose life, for the longest time, she'd assumed was over. She was resigned to her fate that she had committed such grave misdeeds in the mountains that she'd die alone and a monster. Of course, she didn't want this to be true, but as years wore on and she had no epiphany of new life, she saw no way around it. Her journey to the Obelisk sparked just the tiniest realization inside her- the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, just because she cannot change her nature does not mean she cannot change how she uses it. That perhaps there is a use for a 'weapon' as deadly as her- not to destroy, but to protect.