<strong>Name:</strong>Haven Charles<br/><strong>Tribe:</strong>Meninna/Hunters in Darkness<br/><strong>Auspice:</strong>Elodoth<br/>Haven's Sheet (http://sheetgen.dalines.net/sheet/11719)<br/><strong>XP:</strong>35 starting XP + 6 XP for Harmony drop + 16 XP for History/Pictures = 57 XP total. 50 XP spent, 7 XP left.<br/><span class="bbc_u">Backstory:</span><br/><br/>Screams.<br/><br/>That was all she heard, the only thing that registered, in the bright moon that wavered overhead.<br/><br/>Most people would run from the screams, but she had to run towards them. There was an instinct that she could not stop nor avoid. As she stumbled through the brush and towards the beach, what she saw made no sense. There was no way that could be what she thought it was, because what were the fucking odds?<br/><br/><em>The lull of the waves always relaxed her, calmed the aggression that seemed to rage within her body, and gave her a sense of balance. Stretched out on her surfboard, the waves gently lifting her body upwards, while the sun beat down upon her back and the water kept her cool was as close to heaven as she'd ever been. <br/><br/>This stretch of beach was hers (or so she thought) and there were rarely any other people here. Most didn't want to venture through the wooded area to get to it when there was perfectly good stretches of sand without the trouble of the forest. It wasn't a dense patch of wooded area, but it was awkward when one was carrying a surfboard if they didn't know how to move through the underbrush. Thankfully, Haven's father had made sure that she knew how to operate in that type of terrain and brush, so it was second nature to her.</em><br/><br/>Haven's eyes re-focused in front of her, taking in everything at once, and yet not seeming to see anything at the same time. Her body was frozen, caught, as the violence played out in front of her eyes. Blood fell to the once pristine sand, shaken from... fur. It looked black in the moonlight, something that she'd remember later. Yet somehow, despite the scene unfolding in front of her, she didn't make a sound. Somehow, she instinctively knew that to draw the attention of the creatures in front of her would be a bad thing.<br/><br/>Hours, it seemed, passed as she stood there, in the shadow of the sand dune, as the fighting continued. Finally there was a howl of utter triumph and one of the creatures fell. As she watched the fur vanished and the creature became... a person. A horribly scarred person. She could barely see a spot, from her distance, upon the man's torso that wasn't covered with some sort of burn scar. Of course, now there were thick gouges in the flesh and the scars where the flesh had been torn open by the other creatures claws.<br/><br/>As she stared so intently upon the figure on the ground, the other one began moving. She saw it out of the corner of her eye and turned her head to get an even bigger shock: she recognized the person. Her breath caught in her throat, almost a whimper of sound, and she shifted backwards just a bit until her back hit the sand of the dune behind her. Haven's eyes scanned the face of the figure walking towards her and the shock just pushed through her body until all she could do was shakily say one word...<br/><br/>"...D-daddy?"<br/><br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v477/justafreak/forblitzy.jpg)</div>Two years after the shocking surprise of seeing her father engaged in mortal combat with another Werewolf, Haven experienced her own first Change. It was brutal for the young teenager, though at least it was not unexpected. She'd been learning with her Father, who was the Alpha of a smallish pack of Uratha just south of Galveston, for the past two years. She knew that there was a chance she would shift, that she would go through the Change, but they'd had no idea when or even really if she would.<br/><br/>The attack had come out of no where. The Fire-Touched had managed to get close and all hell had broken loose. Haven had been asleep when the house was attacked but she'd woken to the howl of warning. It was one of the few sounds that she was able to recognize and remember then, that warning howl, and she scrambled to get out of the house. She knew where she was supposed to go, to the beach, because she knew she could get out and her dad knew that's where she'd go.<br/><br/>She never made it out the window.<br/><br/>She was grabbed from behind with a mocking laugh echoing near her ear. A hand slid over her mouth and she was shoved up against the wall. Her captor mocked her, reminded her that she was not stronger than them, and she felt the reason she was being caught and held. There was anger, there was fear, and there was helplessness in her as she felt her clothing being torn.<br/><br/>Strangely, it was as her clothing was being torn, that she felt the stirrings of that rage that always seemed to lurk beneath her skin. She wasn't scared of being raped, not really, because she knew she was strong enough to survive the invasion. To her, it was merely sex, and the psychological damage didn't compute then. It was the feeling of being helpless while she heard the yelps and howls outside, wanting to help, that pushed her past that edge.<br/><br/>As soon as the man behind her started trying to work his cock inside her body she Changed. He, surprisingly, had not expected it. He wasn't even able to Change himself before she was ripping his throat out in her War form and his blood coated her fur. That was the last thought she had of that night. The violence swelled through her but she was just a bit late to the party. Her father had survived, though hurting badly, and he ran to draw the Rage from her body. She instinctively chased him, out to the beach, and it was there that he brought her down from the Rage.<br/><br/>When she was able to focus she was curled up on her side, half in the water and half on the shore, while she stared at her father. There was blood along her flesh, though the salt water was washing it away as she lay there, and she could barely breathe as the rage pulled away. She asked him then what was next. He could barely answer her, his own wounds so severe, and he told her that she needed to leave. That the pack had fallen and now she would be in danger.<br/><br/>The pack had been the last line of defense against the Fire-Touched taking over that area, and now they were no more. There were no more Forsaken around, only Pure, and she needed to leave before they tried to corrupt her and draw her to their side. She had heard the stories, of course, of the old legends and why the fighting had begun. She hadn't felt the calling to deal with it until she saw her father struggling to take his last breaths. The Alpha was reduced to a pup and she was still shocked and horrified at what had happened to her.<br/><br/>Before he finally passed he gave her his Klaive, something that he'd carried with him for far longer than she'd been alive. She took the weapon which didn't look like much, and left her Father to Luna. She did not know the funeral Rites then, she did not know what to do, so she did what she'd been told by her Alpha...<br/><br/>She ran.<br/><br/>It was a long couple months, carefully making her way north, until she finally came to land in Chicago. She managed to panhandle to gather some money, fuck a couple truckers on the way to pay for her ride, and she stopped in Chicago for now. She was balanced, comfortable in her own skin, though she was still young and new. She'd managed to save up enough money to keep going if she wanted, but something drew her to Chicago, something pulled at the young Elodoth, and she finally decided that she would hang around and see if the land called to her here as the ocean once had.<br/>