Hala 4 Years Ago @jiayxng

Nita often spent her time with the Warriors of Anshega when she wasn’t trading. Given her aspirations, it was a weekly occurrence. However, some of her fellow packmates often joked about it. She was someone who spent their days traveling and was the savior of witches, healers, and cooks all over the country. She’d done it for years and would happily continue, but she was often jokingly called the ‘Merchant with a Warrior’s Heart’. Long ago, she’d learned how to protect herself, to make sure what happened to her never repeated itself. Nita was strong enough to save her own skin, but what about others? She was told that being a warrior of the pack was no small thing. It wasn’t just about herself or the heat of battle, but all of Vargulf. 

Even with that knowledge, Nita still could not bring herself to be that disciplined. Her pride always got in the way, that voice that kept egging her to place herself first was loud as ever. Sometimes, she wondered if it was her own form insanity, to keep making the same mistakes over and over. Despite her habits, Nita still worked hard to hone her skills and perfect them. She had years upon years on her side, and she knew her resolve would match her skills eventually. For now, she’d continue on as she always did. Sparring with her peers was a wonderful way to pass the time and nourish her ego. Though the latter might not be for the best, there was nothing like handing a cocky man his own ass, which was already in the process of.

“Aaand that’s your neck, yet again.” She said to her current sparring partner. “You’re lucky I didn’t thwack you that time! Call it merciful, I guess...insult me again, and I might not be.” She’d taken him on twice now and bested him in front of the group. Competition among wolves was not only a friendly hobby, but a way to assert dominance between one another. Werewolves may not have been actual animals, but their instincts and habits still mirrored their fully wolven brethren. Finished with her fight, Nita took her bo staff and retired to the sidelines. For once, she didn’t grab for her skin of whiskey, but water instead. 

@miahenwick​ Cauldron Event

At first, Nita didn’t know what to think of this new wolf. She seemed pleasant enough, perhaps too pleasant for her liking. The spice trader liked people who were a bit more rough around the edges; they tended to be less righteous and annoying. However, Mia proved herself to be decent company despite Nita’s expectations. Being a worker from the Church, she thought nothing but foolery about religion would spew from her mouth. Instead, Mia hadn’t mentioned God or the church even once. The fact that Nita was slightly smitten by her cherub face made being around her even easier. 

Regardless of how she felt about Mia, she was still willing to help her acclimate to being a different specie. When Nita was turned, she asked for it willingly, but Mia hadn’t been given a choice. The transition must have been difficult, since she was now filled with urges and instincts she might not understand. Being around crowds was the best way to test out her adjustment. When Nita first turned, she nearly got sensory overload when she went to a heavily populated area. Due to this fact, Nita decided to set up her wagon on the outskirts of the crowds near the water. Mages loved herbs and spices and she’d be stupid not to take advantage and earn some money. 

So far, she had a steady flow of customers, who made sure to spread word to their peers about the wagon by the beach. “Thanks for shoppin’ at Ursa’s Spices, sir, you have a good one!” She said to her latest customer, once they were out of earshot, Nita turned to her companion. 

@urfarah-alastair

They were supposed to be training ― at least that’s how it started. Nita had pressed him about training her since Farryn was so busy. She might have still dealt with her memories from the Blood Moon, but that didn’t deter Nita from her goal. She wanted to get stronger, become better. In times like these, she wanted to be at the forefront of protecting Anshega. The trader wouldn’t be able to do that if she weren’t truly prepared. Right now, training was the furthest thing from her mind. All she could focus on was the Alpha before her. 

@tristananshega

A sheen of sweat coated Nita’s brow as she took hold of the sporting hammer. The heat bore down on them all, but there was plenty of water shared among the competitors. The spicer made sure to stay hydrated and still took a swig of brandy every so often. Usually, Nita would take advantage of the flood of citizens and focus on selling her goods. This year, she let her partner, Titus, handle it while she participated in the games. Little did she know that she’d be up against Tristan. Due to the number of competitors, she figured they wouldn’t get paired up. She should have known she’d be wrong. 

It was a good thing that hammer throwing wasn’t all about strength. Otherwise, she would have felt like they cheated. The field event not only required power, but accuracy too. They had to get the hammer far, but still keep it in the boundary lines. Each person would have three tosses, their hammers marked by a ribbon that matched the one around their wrists. Nita looked over to her opponent, the young wolf supposedly fated to rule Anshega. “Your father’s gonna laugh his ass off when he hears about your loss. Tristan, the Alpha-Born, couldn’t even make it past the first round in a human game.” 

Nita stuck out her tongue, stepping over to the throwing point. She lifted the hammer, whirling it above her head a few times before letting it soar. It sailed in a straight arc before sinking to the ground, landing a good distance in the boundaries. “Let’s see you beat that, I doubt you can.” She teased.

@aaliyahtenney Nita’s Home Vargulf Territory Blood Moon SWP Aftermath 

Every time she shut her eyes, Nita relived her nightmare. She wished it was some cruel dream or an odd projection of her fears, but it was all too real. The warg could still taste the blood on her tongue, could smell the putrid fear wafting from those innocent people. They’d been enjoying a simple meal after a day’s hunt and she tore them to shreds. Nita knew that it wasn’t her fault, she saw those strange lights shroud the moon like many others. It didn’t matter if magic was the culprit, she still blamed herself. She should have been stronger; her will should have been as resilient as stone. 

Alastair always said that her reckless nature was her weakness; the blood moon only proved him right. Her wolf sank into that ecstasy without remorse, willingly drowned in it even. The entire time, Nita felt like she was watching it all from behind a cage, helpless to do anything about it. After Graham subdued her, she woke in the woods alone, covered in blood. She spent the better part of an hour vomiting blood and human remains. Afterward, Nita bathed in the nearest river and ran home in her urhan form. 

Now, she was huddled in front of the fireplace. A half-eaten plate of fruit lied next to her with a drained bottle of spiced rum. The trader was too afraid to fall asleep so she just stared at the fire and prayed to Gaia for forgiveness. The knock on the door roused her from her stupor, but she couldn’t bring herself to be around others. “Go away, Aaliyah...” Nita croaked. “Just leave me alone.” 

Nita didn’t know what to expect when she saw the strange lights kiss the moon. She knew that something was afoot, but there was nothing to be done about it. First, came the hunger. It was an uncanny need to devour everything in sight. She wanted to rend flesh and crush bones between her jaws, to hear screams and make the world bleed with her rage. It was a blessing that she didn’t decide to hunt with her pack tonight, otherwise they would have been her first victims. 

Instead, she tracked down a band of hunters. The group had been sitting in their shared cabin, quietly chatting over dinner. Whispers hovered between them about the strange moon, wondering if it was some sort of ill omen from the gods. Their discussion wouldn’t go any further, the poor mortals would never get their answers. They all fell silent the moment her roar rang through their home. Nita burst through the door in her Garou form. Standing tall on two legs, she lunged across the space in two strides. 

Location: Leeds Time: 187 years ago @grchcmisms

Nita didn’t know how long she’d been strung up on the cross, but she was thankful the warlock didn’t truly crucify her. Her arms and legs were shackled to the oaken posts, ankles and wrists raw from the restraints. The hybrid’s right arm was situated specifically to show off the brand on her hand, an ‘x’ to mark her as a thief. Her captor made sure the brand didn’t get infected. He said that a greedy thief deserved to starve, death by infection would be too swift and he wanted her to suffer. Too bad she never stole anything. She made her spices with her own two hands and the asshole merely assumed she was peddling them. Now she was sentenced to die a slow death.

Judging by her count, it had been at least a month. Each day she felt weaker and everyday the citizens of Leeds relished in her impending death. They’d spit on her, throw trash and rotten food. Her own stench was starting to make Nita feel sick and her greatest blessings were fresh gusts of wind. Every so often, one of the warlock’s servants would come out and give her a ladle of water. It didn’t matter how many times she asked them, they wouldn’t help her escape or even sneak her a piece of bread.