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........Sage Covenbreaker.........
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Mature | Grave | Jaded
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“Witches don't look like anything. Witches are. Witches do.”
― Franny Billingsley
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⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝ .Appearance. ⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟
When one has captured Witches as long as Sage had, one was bound to earn a scar or ten, or have the back of their fur become infused with magic. The mulberry stains that break up his cream and brown coat came from the Fifth Witch he had hunted after they had forcibly attempted to turn he, himself, into the very thing he despised. His once bright blue eyes, slowly dulled to a pitch murky colour from being exposed darkest of magics, can now detect the slightest glimpse of Chaotic Magic.
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⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝ .Personality. ⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟
Gruff and as weathered as a cliff face, Sage gives off the impression that he was born made of stone. One would not be so far from that idea. Stoic even as a young wolf, his severity was only hardened as he trained under his mentor and father, Basil. Upon Basil's passing at the hands of his first captured Witch, Sage took on the heavy mantle of finding any supporter of strife and the Witches beloved by Chaos. The years have caused him to be a stern, stubborn sort, especially when it comes to teaching. Unable to see how and why younger wolves cannot do what he did and why they're into such strange things that invite Chaos into their lives. Yet, despite that, he sees his apprentice as the child he never had and bit by bit, Sage is learning that not everything needs to be tough and stiff.
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⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝ ...History... ⌞ ° • + • ° ⌟
Witches. Unseelie. Ghouls. The unknown. Deep down in some glimmer of their histories, Chaos was at the heart of them. Yet, as proud followers of Order, Sage's father, his father's father and every father before stretching to the beginning of Loria vowed to protect the balance that Order had set. Each father had train their son alone in south of Darkspine, travelling the world here and there to get them used to the hunt and the creatures that brought Chaos to the world. In particular, Witches, the 13 Brides of Chaos. Covenbreakers, as they were named. It was his family's pride to constantly seek out the Witches and keep them sealed below the earth, in salt, metal and rowan. When a Witch returned to ash and soil, a new Witch would be born and the hunt would begin all over again.
It was a day like any other in Darkspine, in fact, it was rather pleasant when Sage's father came trudging up the hill to their little home shaking his head and mane. The porridge Sage had ate sat like a stone in his stomach at the words his father grunted. The First had lost Chaos' love and returned to the soil. Now was the time to prove his training had not been for naught. They packed well, strapping heavy Bovius leather shoes to their feet to protect them from the trek ahead. Over the lands they marched, following a black lodestone that tugged to the North. The cold lands of Icerun. Sage's first hunt, would be his father's last.
Sage had lost a chunk of his flesh, along with his boyish youth after the hunt. Hearing his father's voice chide him for being a sentimental fool, Sage dragged both his father and the First back to their final resting place in the south of Darkspine. The only person he had loved was gone.
Until a spry strange little wolf became his apprentice and brought a speck of light as a child would to a father into his life.
