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Description

OVERVIEW

Name: Macabre

Nicknames: Macaw, the Vulture, Morbid Macabre

Age: elder (12 years)

Gender: male

Height and Weight: 90 cm and 36 kg

Build: tall as the oak and exceedingly thin, he is more bone than flesh, with beady hollowed eyes and a heavy brow. The full extent of his height however is greatly diminished in his stooped neck, he appears with a head always hung low. His feathered coat is long, thin, and scraggly. All in all he is far from graceful insomuch as looks go, with a long, weathered face and a sharply aquiline muzzle. His figure is one mangled by age, hunched over with a sloped back.

Voice: Patrick Stewart (Seti)

Scent: a mixture of herbs and wormwood with a tinge of rot particularly on his breath

Territory: Kol

Ranking: Kilti Ocuuli

Abilities: none

Moon Phase: First Quarter Moon - Birch (The Achiever)

Relations: Austeja (ex-mate; open to play, DM me if interested :3), Athanasia (daughter; deceased), Maelgrim (niece; deceased), Bia (daughter; deceased), Nike (granddaughter), Thetis (niece), Areias (nephew; deceased), Wally (grandson; deceased), Methuselah (son), Etamine (granddaughter; deceased), Solveig (great granddaughter)

PERSONALITY

INTJ-Assertive ~ Lawful Neutral

Sedulous | Driven | Withdrawn | Censorious | Morbid | Apathetic

Patient | Levelheaded | Perfectionistic | Methodical

Macabre always was something of a workaholic. He simply can’t sit still, physically or mentally. He needs to think, needs to do. Something to keep all that gray matter occupied. Unproductivity grates on his soul more than anything, leaving him agitated and unfulfilled. He might tell you this obsessiveness stems from his gratitude for the ability to work, given his feeble beginnings. He’s more than appreciative to stand equal alongside his packmates in their capabilities. Thing is, Macabre has never been too well about balancing his time. Either it’s on one thing or it’s on another, otherwise it’s altogether too much for him. Not to say he wouldn’t try, to his credit, but he has the tendency to get entirely absorbed in his pursuits- mainly, that is, herbalism. The trade was his first love, going back years to a pup fascinated at the simple prospect of strengthening himself; and it still holds a high place in his heart.

Family is of utmost importance to Macabre, even above his trade. It is his first allegiance, beyond even Malaysia and her cause. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for them. It is a thing ingrained in him since youth, when as a pup there was only family to lean on in his isolation, but never quite put into practice until Austeja. Unfortunately, family is no longer a thing he possesses; save for Athanasia. And as the socially inept being that he is, it’s unlikely to be expected that he’ll set down any relationships any time soon. Macabre is a most asocial creature, content to be that way too. While he can appreciate the company of a friend, he is a very self-sufficient wolf who values his solitude. Nevertheless, though he’d never admit, he does miss some faces at times..

Frail and withered to the bone, most take him as an oddity to his moon phase; but a closer look reveals him not so far off. Throughout his life the elder has pursued the heights of achievement with much success, in large part by his driven and perfectionistic nature. Macabre is never known to do anything halfways. He is scrupulous for his own sake and cares not for reward. The elder demands much of himself, and he expects as much from those around him. Macabre is an incredibly censorious creature, rarely is he satisfied, and he has no qualms expressing it. It wasn’t always so, but hardships have made the once amicable Macabre a lot more rough around the edges. He’s been hardened and embittered by loss and struggles, and he won’t hide the fact. It’s made him difficult to work with, and indeed many a wolf has broken under his pressure; Macabre himself will attest to that, pushing others as far as they can go. But his intentions are never cruel. He is hard because he wants the best from others, as he gives to them. Because he sees their best, even when they’re not quite there.

From birth, Macabre never possessed great speed or strength; age has only made it become more obvious. Its lacking, however, has forged a wolf of the strongest will and a sharp mind. If these were the only weapons he had, he needed to make the very best of it. His strategy in life is patience. Macabre is a vulture, methodical in his approach, conserving the little strength he has in the careful waiting for opportunity.

Macabre is an extremely neutral character, passive and mellow. There is little that he truly cares enough for. His apathy leaves him with an open mind and a cool head, but it also makes him coldly detached from others’ woes, albeit aided by the numbness from years in the herbalist field. The suffering of others is just another day at work. Sympathy is not a thing to be expected of Macabre. As ironic as it is for a wolf of his task, and to have endured hardship himself, he is indifferent to others’ lives and is content to let be life’s cruel say.

It’s noticeable in the atmosphere that seems to surround him. Sadness. A consistent poignancy about the elder, as much his companion as Athanasia. It marks his presence always. There’s no doubt life has been rough from the start for Macabre, but the loss of his family leaves an especially painful wound. Even Nasi’s death, though he believes her returned, has left the elder scarred. She is all the wolf has now, and he is very protective of her. Since his return from self-seclusion in the Ithunnwood that day, the two have only known mockery and rejection at the paws of the United Pack. Macabre lost all respectability; his daughter, her identity. If there is one thing Macabre judges a wolf on, it is the treatment of his daughter. Her father’s heart rests with her. To acknowledge her for who she is is the quickest way to it; and to disrespect her is a swift descent to damnation. Macabre might be calloused to the suffering of others, their pleading falling on deaf ears, but he is not heartless. Though his daughter was made a symbol of death, she is the life in him. And those who can address death as the life she really is, will gain his mercy.

HISTORY

Born the eldest of his litter, Macabre hailed from a prominent family with a rather dark history. In secret they clung tooth and claw to the ways of their ancestors as others lost touch with history. Drawing within themselves, they came to look down on the majority of their pack. So swept up in their own charms they were, incest became rife in their numbers; and so did its effects. Macabre was no exception, the product of entangled family blood. Naturally, he and the rest of his brood were born sickly and fraught with issues. Many did not outlive puphood. Untimely deaths as a result of illness and disease were commonplace in the family. Macabre’s own father passed on while he was yet a pup. Youth was hardly youth to a young whelp cradled by death, but that was the life Macabre was accustomed to. As a pup, he was always too frail and tired to participate in the rough-and-tumble games of his peers. In all his years, he’d never possessed any physical prowess. But he did have a keen intellect, and the youth was voracious in cultivating it.

It was early on in life that Macabre discovered a passion for herbalism, albeit one bolstered by the loss of his father and siblings. Of the belief that he too would follow in his ancestors’ steps and die young, Macabre aimed to achieve greatness swiftly. He took up the task as soon as he was eligible, and pursued it with feverish ambition. There was room for nothing else. Raised apart from his peers, the young male’s social skills were utterly terrible. It never bothered him much. He considered himself far too busy to be a social butterfly, and this contentment with his isolation left his social life severely lacking. Macabre lived and breathed herbalism, and for him, that was quite enough. The herbalist trade proved a very social task by itself, introducing him to a variety of workmates and patients. Awkward as he was, Macabre got along amiably and soon established himself as a reliable figure at his task.

She came in as a patient wounded from a training spar. Austeja was a gamma einar, fiery and just as eager as he in chasing that top rank. It showed in the scars she bore that her ambitions were to be taken seriously. In the majority of ways, she was his polar opposite. Outgoing and vivacious, bold and strong. But the ferocities they held within were very much the same, their lives forged from fires of adversity. It took more than a first glance to see something, one in the other, but over time so began something more between the herbalist and einar. Austeja brought energy and adventure to his life; he kept her grounded when her head was too far up in the clouds, and soothed her restless spirit. Macabre was by no means a handsome or suave wolf, but his mind was charming in the stead of his visage, and he appealed to the hunger of her intellect. Soon enough, the pair made it official, and Macabre’s heart began shifting its priorities for the first time.

Macabre was about middle aged when he and his mate welcomed a brood of five. Most picked up their mother’s health; all, thank Álmos, her beauty. One, however, was unfortunate enough to inherit her father’s poor constitution. Athanasia was one after her father’s own heart. A frail, sickly pup, she desired nothing more but to be at her father’s side, and Macabre was more than willing to have her. It wasn’t that he picked favorites, but little Nasi’s weak constitution meant she required more attention. As an herbalist, the weight of his daughter’s health weighed especially heavy. She was his responsibility in more ways than one. Yet he could only watch as she declined over the months. Macabre tried anything and everything to save his child, but alas- it was in vain. And he was forced to face the humiliation of failure. Pride, however, was the last thing on his mind. Grief overcame him. An agony so strong, every loss before it paled and withered. By Álmos, he would never wish it upon his worst enemies. Sorrow consumed him, swallowed him whole, and in the blackness of the beast’s belly, he was left to suffer.

Macabre soon drifted from reality, abandoning everything: work, social life, and family to stay at his child’s side. Though she was already gone, it was not a concept her father could handle. He refused to believe death could have her. Somewhere within the island, there was still a way he could save her. For days the herbalist neither ate nor slept, bleeding himself out over the earth, praying it satiate Álmos’ thirst. If it was blood the island desired, he gave it freely. Out of desperation he came to experiment with herbs and shrooms, tearing at the veil between mortal and spirit. He desired an audience with them. All he wanted was his daughter back. So lost in his own pain he was, it never occurred to him that his self-isolation had put distance between himself and his family. They too were grieving; even if he had forgotten them. In his absence, he and his mate grew apart. She had tried all she could, made interventions, to get him back. It was the hardest point in her life too, and she needed his support. The rest of their pups did too, young and scarred by this loss. They needn’t lose a father too. But she couldn’t save him from his sorrow, that deafening anguish that veiled him from her. Macabre was dead. He died to her and their family, unable to leave his grief; not even for them. It was a tough choice, but for the sake of their family’s recovery, Austeja left her mate to his fate and resettled in a new life with their pups; hopeful to move on and find healing.

Eventually it came around to Macabre that his little Nasi would not be waking. It didn’t bother him now though. Soon he would be with her. Starved, poisoned, and sleep-deprived, he was well almost there. Pushed by these and all his grief, Macabre’s sanity was lost on him as he awaited death’s arrival. Reality blurred more and more with each passing day, hallucinating and slipping in and out of consciousness, until finally exhaustion got the better of him.

That morning, he awoke to the flutter of wings. Just in time to see an owl snatch his pup from beside him and carry her off. Macabre was used to fighting off the buzzards, but this time he had been completely off guard. Far too weak to keep up, he was forced to concede his loss. In a wave of rage, he combed the Ithunnwood, out for blood. Death would not escape him. He sought out its face. The next time the owl crossed his path, he killed it without second thought, superstition be damned. Death would not have her in any form. But Athanasia was nowhere to be found. Anger returned to sadness, realizing he would never see her again. That she was somewhere lost out there, a meal for the fowl. So it went, death did have the last say… Macabre wept. Broke. Lost it. As if his breath were taken right out of him. The bereaved wolf suffered a meltdown. Hallucinations abounded. Voices and visions, plaguing him as he lay at death’s doorstep. Until one sound pierced through the clamor. A quiet and shrill screeching, coming from the trees. It pulled his focus, seeming to clear away everything else. Curiosity hauled him to his feet, and to a hole in a tree. There, in the dark of the tree hollow, was a nest of eggs. Some were already hatched, with owlets screeching for their next meal. Something stirred within the grieved wolf. Like a soft whisper in the black depths of his soul. That was all it took. And Macabre was convinced. Nasi. Death gave her back.

It seemed crazy, of course, but at this point Macabre himself wasn’t so far off, willing to believe anything but that his cherished child was truly gone. Even if she did return in a different form than her previous life. His little Nasi was back. What more could he want? Macabre was certain his daughter was among the owlets he discovered. So he looked after them from that day forward, remaining in the Ithunwood; a recluse within his pack. Only one survived on his care; his beloved Athanasia. Not long after he found the owlets, Macabre found small Nasi’s body. It wounded him to put her into the earth, never to look upon that bright face again. But it was not the deep, resounding pain of permanence that once held him. Merely a parting of vessels. He had been granted mercy. His Athanasia had been returned to him. Not the same, but no less his daughter, cherished and beloved.

Macabre was gone for months when he returned to the bustle of pack life, but it was no easy reintegration. All the time he’d spent stuck in a single moment, the rest of the pack went on without him. Austeja had moved on, the news only just reaching him upon his return. She’d found happiness with someone else. It hurt Macabre, but in a sobered state of mind, he understood her reasons. So long as she was content, he would be so for her as well. The once obsessive herbalist was now herbalist no more; or at least no pristine beta. His absence costed him years of work. Though he tried to get back into the routine, it simply wasn’t the same. The fire for glory that once seared in the soul of a youth was all burnt out. And with an omen of death perched on his shoulder, it became unnerving to patients. After struggling to settle back into herbalism, Macabre retired of his task. His reputation, once a grand addition to his reputable family’s, now lay in tatters amongst the dirt and mud, scarred by his breakdown. But none of it mattered. All that did, all that ever would, had been returned to him. If it cost him everything else? He could live with that.

Macabre was never able to regain his status as a top herbalist within the United Pack after his return from the deep end. Though he’d recovered his daughter, he was stripped of everything else. So when it happened that a decidedly ordinary red she-wolf came along, with unordinary tune on her lips, calling back to the days of their ancestors, it captured the aged wolf’s attention. The United Pack made outcasts of those unlike them; Malaysia made them family. The future queen of the Kol set herself as mother of the misfits, with promises of magic and spirits and godhood. A home. A new beginning. Indiscriminate. It was no hard choice to make. This was an opportunity to recapture the heights he once soared. Macabre was won over, proud of the youth’s courage in publicly reaffirming the beliefs of their ancestors. They were no doubt proud of her too, reviving their legacy in the hearts and minds of a new generation. But Macabre was too frail to participate in the massacre of Svajone and his men, when that fateful day came. He lurked at a distance, like the buzzards, ‘til the numbers had taken their fill and satiated their bloodlust. Then scavenged from what remained before taking up after his Kol brethren in the north. There was nothing here for Macabre and his little Nasi. But he would make a new home for them in the Kol.

EXTRA

has a hind leg that is longer than the rest of his limbs, causing him to limp with the odd limb dragging behind him in a most unusual gait

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ACTIVITY LOG

+ 2 starting souls (9/#/19)
+ 1 soul for Loomi’s generosity - Svajone reaches 100 characters (9/#/19)
+ 1 soul for SVA | Offering (9/#/19)
+ 2 souls for The Hunt - Kol Team 6 [EVENT] & Collision [EVENT] (11/#/19)
- 5 souls for taking Ocuuli trade (11/#/19)
+ 1 soul for Jan 2020 opening signal boost
+ 3 souls for 2019 secret santa
+ 1 soul for Svajone: Invincible (12/#/19)
+ 2 souls for SVA | White Out (12/#/19)
+ 2 souls for covert Christmas black ops gift for Loomi (12/#/19)
- 10 souls for rank up from Eiti to Kilti
+ 2 souls for A New Arrangement (1/#/20)
+ 1 soul for SVA | Go Fish (1/#/20)
+ 4 souls for SVA | OverBEARing (2/#/20)
+ 3 souls for [Sva] Friend of the Past (4/#/20)
+ 1 soul for SVA | There Will Be Blood (4/#/20)
+ 1 soul for [Sva] Blood Ties (4/#/20)
+ 3 souls for SVA | Guts ‘n’ Buzzards (4/#/20)
+ 2 souls for SVA | A Distant Light (4/#/20)
+ 3 souls for SVA: Uninvited Guest [Collab] (4/#/20)
+ 2 souls for SVA | We’re Busy Here (4/#/20)
+ 2 souls for [Sva] Oh No I’m A Ghost (4/#/20)
+ 2 souls for [Svajone] Something Blue (4/#/20)
+ 1 souls for SVA | Ghost Hunters (4/#/20)
0 souls for SVA | Whom You Seek (4/#/20)
0 souls for SVA | Necromancer (4/#/20)
0 souls for [Svajone] Homeward Crossing (4/#/20)
+ 2 souls for birthday bonus (6/#/20)
+ 3 souls for birthday quiz (6/#/20)
+ 5 souls for SotS completion (6/#/20)
+ 3 souls from piñata event (6/#/20)
+ 1 soul from wish event (6/#/20)
+ 3 souls for SVA | Remnants (7/#/20)
+ 1 soul for Sept 2020 opening signal boost
+ 1 soul for Svajone | Festering (8/#/20)
+ 1 soul for SVA | A Kol Perspective (9/#/20)
+ 4 souls for SVA | As the Ants Do (9/#/20)
+ 2 souls for SVA | So You Wanna Be An Herbalist (10/#/20)
+ 4 souls for SVA | The Shadow of Death (10/#/20)
+ 1 soul for [SVA] Listen Closely Now (10/#/20)
+ 2 souls for SVA | Working Day and Night (10/#/20)
+ 2 souls for SVA | What’s Taking So Long? (10/#/20)
+ 2 souls for {SVAJONE} COLLAB - Eerie Visions (10/#/20)
+ 2 souls for [SVA] Grow Up, Kid (10/#/20)

+ 1 soul for ghouls-to-souls exchange (10/#/20)
+ 2 souls for Wispmas event (12/#/20)
+ 2 souls from the Christmas Stocking (12/#/20)
+ 1 soul for SVA | Castaway (12/#/20)
+ 2 souls for SVA | The World Slumbers (12/#/20)
+ 1 soul for SVA | Cramped Quarters (2/#/21)
+ 1 soul
+ 3 souls for SVA | Bitter Herbs (3/#/21)

+ 1 soul for SVA | Inane Magic (3/#/21)
+ 3 souls for SVA | Macabre’s Dream (3/#/21)
+ 2 souls for SVA | Deja Vu (3/#/21)
+ 3 souls for SVA | Macabre’s Dream Pt 2 (3/#/21)
+ 5 souls for SVA | Macabre’s Dream Pt 3 (3/#/21)
+ 2 souls for SVA | Through the Fog (3/#/21)
+ 2 souls for SVA | Curious Company (4/#/21)
+ 2 souls for SVA | Blood in the Grass (4/#/21)
+ 2 souls for SVA | Scars (4/#/21)
+ 1 soul for SVA | The Season of Giving (4/#/21)
+ 10 souls for Loner Token trade in (4/#/21)
+ 2 souls for SVA | Pins and Needles (4/#/21)
- 70 souls for shop purchase of large familiar (5/#/21)
- 20 souls for Dr. Doolittle shop purchase (5/#/21)

+ 1 soul for [SVA] Stories Told by Moonlight - MCC (5/#/21)
+ 1 soul for SVAJONE: Bleed [MAIN PLOT] (5/#/21)
+ 2 soul for SVA | A New Friend (6/#/21)
+ 2 soul for SVA | Interests (7/#/21)
+ 2 souls for SVA | In Weakness We Are Strong (7/#/21)
+ 1 soul for SVA | Traitorous Blood (7/#/21)
+ 1 soul for SVA | Delivery (8/#/21)

———————
= 34 souls

Description

OVERVIEW

Name: Macabre

Nicknames: Macaw, the Vulture, Morbid Macabre

Age: elder (12 years)

Gender: male

Height and Weight: 90 cm and 36 kg

Build: tall as the oak and exceedingly thin, he is more bone than flesh, with beady hollowed eyes and a heavy brow. The full extent of his height however is greatly diminished in his stooped neck, he appears with a head always hung low. His feathered coat is long, thin, and scraggly. All in all he is far from graceful insomuch as looks go, with a long, weathered face and a sharply aquiline muzzle. His figure is one mangled by age, hunched over with a sloped back.

Voice: Patrick Stewart (Seti)

Scent: a mixture of herbs and wormwood with a tinge of rot particularly on his breath

Territory: Kol

Ranking: Kilti Ocuuli

Abilities: none

Moon Phase: First Quarter Moon - Birch (The Achiever)

Relations: Austeja (ex-mate; open to play, DM me if interested :3), Athanasia (daughter; deceased), Maelgrim (niece; deceased), Bia (daughter; deceased), Nike (granddaughter), Thetis (niece), Areias (nephew; deceased), Wally (grandson; deceased), Methuselah (son), Etamine (granddaughter; deceased), Solveig (great granddaughter)

PERSONALITY

INTJ-Assertive ~ Lawful Neutral

Sedulous | Driven | Withdrawn | Censorious | Morbid | Apathetic

Patient | Levelheaded | Perfectionistic | Methodical

Macabre always was something of a workaholic. He simply can’t sit still, physically or mentally. He needs to think, needs to do. Something to keep all that gray matter occupied. Unproductivity grates on his soul more than anything, leaving him agitated and unfulfilled. He might tell you this obsessiveness stems from his gratitude for the ability to work, given his feeble beginnings. He’s more than appreciative to stand equal alongside his packmates in their capabilities. Thing is, Macabre has never been too well about balancing his time. Either it’s on one thing or it’s on another, otherwise it’s altogether too much for him. Not to say he wouldn’t try, to his credit, but he has the tendency to get entirely absorbed in his pursuits- mainly, that is, herbalism. The trade was his first love, going back years to a pup fascinated at the simple prospect of strengthening himself; and it still holds a high place in his heart.

Family is of utmost importance to Macabre, even above his trade. It is his first allegiance, beyond even Malaysia and her cause. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for them. It is a thing ingrained in him since youth, when as a pup there was only family to lean on in his isolation, but never quite put into practice until Austeja. Unfortunately, family is no longer a thing he possesses; save for Athanasia. And as the socially inept being that he is, it’s unlikely to be expected that he’ll set down any relationships any time soon. Macabre is a most asocial creature, content to be that way too. While he can appreciate the company of a friend, he is a very self-sufficient wolf who values his solitude. Nevertheless, though he’d never admit, he does miss some faces at times..

Frail and withered to the bone, most take him as an oddity to his moon phase; but a closer look reveals him not so far off. Throughout his life the elder has pursued the heights of achievement with much success, in large part by his driven and perfectionistic nature. Macabre is never known to do anything halfways. He is scrupulous for his own sake and cares not for reward. The elder demands much of himself, and he expects as much from those around him. Macabre is an incredibly censorious creature, rarely is he satisfied, and he has no qualms expressing it. It wasn’t always so, but hardships have made the once amicable Macabre a lot more rough around the edges. He’s been hardened and embittered by loss and struggles, and he won’t hide the fact. It’s made him difficult to work with, and indeed many a wolf has broken under his pressure; Macabre himself will attest to that, pushing others as far as they can go. But his intentions are never cruel. He is hard because he wants the best from others, as he gives to them. Because he sees their best, even when they’re not quite there.

From birth, Macabre never possessed great speed or strength; age has only made it become more obvious. Its lacking, however, has forged a wolf of the strongest will and a sharp mind. If these were the only weapons he had, he needed to make the very best of it. His strategy in life is patience. Macabre is a vulture, methodical in his approach, conserving the little strength he has in the careful waiting for opportunity.

Macabre is an extremely neutral character, passive and mellow. There is little that he truly cares enough for. His apathy leaves him with an open mind and a cool head, but it also makes him coldly detached from others’ woes, albeit aided by the numbness from years in the herbalist field. The suffering of others is just another day at work. Sympathy is not a thing to be expected of Macabre. As ironic as it is for a wolf of his task, and to have endured hardship himself, he is indifferent to others’ lives and is content to let be life’s cruel say.

It’s noticeable in the atmosphere that seems to surround him. Sadness. A consistent poignancy about the elder, as much his companion as Athanasia. It marks his presence always. There’s no doubt life has been rough from the start for Macabre, but the loss of his family leaves an especially painful wound. Even Nasi’s death, though he believes her returned, has left the elder scarred. She is all the wolf has now, and he is very protective of her. Since his return from self-seclusion in the Ithunnwood that day, the two have only known mockery and rejection at the paws of the United Pack. Macabre lost all respectability; his daughter, her identity. If there is one thing Macabre judges a wolf on, it is the treatment of his daughter. Her father’s heart rests with her. To acknowledge her for who she is is the quickest way to it; and to disrespect her is a swift descent to damnation. Macabre might be calloused to the suffering of others, their pleading falling on deaf ears, but he is not heartless. Though his daughter was made a symbol of death, she is the life in him. And those who can address death as the life she really is, will gain his mercy.

HISTORY

Born the eldest of his litter, Macabre hailed from a prominent family with a rather dark history. In secret they clung tooth and claw to the ways of their ancestors as others lost touch with history. Drawing within themselves, they came to look down on the majority of their pack. So swept up in their own charms they were, incest became rife in their numbers; and so did its effects. Macabre was no exception, the product of entangled family blood. Naturally, he and the rest of his brood were born sickly and fraught with issues. Many did not outlive puphood. Untimely deaths as a result of illness and disease were commonplace in the family. Macabre’s own father passed on while he was yet a pup. Youth was hardly youth to a young whelp cradled by death, but that was the life Macabre was accustomed to. As a pup, he was always too frail and tired to participate in the rough-and-tumble games of his peers. In all his years, he’d never possessed any physical prowess. But he did have a keen intellect, and the youth was voracious in cultivating it.

It was early on in life that Macabre discovered a passion for herbalism, albeit one bolstered by the loss of his father and siblings. Of the belief that he too would follow in his ancestors’ steps and die young, Macabre aimed to achieve greatness swiftly. He took up the task as soon as he was eligible, and pursued it with feverish ambition. There was room for nothing else. Raised apart from his peers, the young male’s social skills were utterly terrible. It never bothered him much. He considered himself far too busy to be a social butterfly, and this contentment with his isolation left his social life severely lacking. Macabre lived and breathed herbalism, and for him, that was quite enough. The herbalist trade proved a very social task by itself, introducing him to a variety of workmates and patients. Awkward as he was, Macabre got along amiably and soon established himself as a reliable figure at his task.

She came in as a patient wounded from a training spar. Austeja was a gamma einar, fiery and just as eager as he in chasing that top rank. It showed in the scars she bore that her ambitions were to be taken seriously. In the majority of ways, she was his polar opposite. Outgoing and vivacious, bold and strong. But the ferocities they held within were very much the same, their lives forged from fires of adversity. It took more than a first glance to see something, one in the other, but over time so began something more between the herbalist and einar. Austeja brought energy and adventure to his life; he kept her grounded when her head was too far up in the clouds, and soothed her restless spirit. Macabre was by no means a handsome or suave wolf, but his mind was charming in the stead of his visage, and he appealed to the hunger of her intellect. Soon enough, the pair made it official, and Macabre’s heart began shifting its priorities for the first time.

Macabre was about middle aged when he and his mate welcomed a brood of five. Most picked up their mother’s health; all, thank Álmos, her beauty. One, however, was unfortunate enough to inherit her father’s poor constitution. Athanasia was one after her father’s own heart. A frail, sickly pup, she desired nothing more but to be at her father’s side, and Macabre was more than willing to have her. It wasn’t that he picked favorites, but little Nasi’s weak constitution meant she required more attention. As an herbalist, the weight of his daughter’s health weighed especially heavy. She was his responsibility in more ways than one. Yet he could only watch as she declined over the months. Macabre tried anything and everything to save his child, but alas- it was in vain. And he was forced to face the humiliation of failure. Pride, however, was the last thing on his mind. Grief overcame him. An agony so strong, every loss before it paled and withered. By Álmos, he would never wish it upon his worst enemies. Sorrow consumed him, swallowed him whole, and in the blackness of the beast’s belly, he was left to suffer.

Macabre soon drifted from reality, abandoning everything: work, social life, and family to stay at his child’s side. Though she was already gone, it was not a concept her father could handle. He refused to believe death could have her. Somewhere within the island, there was still a way he could save her. For days the herbalist neither ate nor slept, bleeding himself out over the earth, praying it satiate Álmos’ thirst. If it was blood the island desired, he gave it freely. Out of desperation he came to experiment with herbs and shrooms, tearing at the veil between mortal and spirit. He desired an audience with them. All he wanted was his daughter back. So lost in his own pain he was, it never occurred to him that his self-isolation had put distance between himself and his family. They too were grieving; even if he had forgotten them. In his absence, he and his mate grew apart. She had tried all she could, made interventions, to get him back. It was the hardest point in her life too, and she needed his support. The rest of their pups did too, young and scarred by this loss. They needn’t lose a father too. But she couldn’t save him from his sorrow, that deafening anguish that veiled him from her. Macabre was dead. He died to her and their family, unable to leave his grief; not even for them. It was a tough choice, but for the sake of their family’s recovery, Austeja left her mate to his fate and resettled in a new life with their pups; hopeful to move on and find healing.

Eventually it came around to Macabre that his little Nasi would not be waking. It didn’t bother him now though. Soon he would be with her. Starved, poisoned, and sleep-deprived, he was well almost there. Pushed by these and all his grief, Macabre’s sanity was lost on him as he awaited death’s arrival. Reality blurred more and more with each passing day, hallucinating and slipping in and out of consciousness, until finally exhaustion got the better of him.

That morning, he awoke to the flutter of wings. Just in time to see an owl snatch his pup from beside him and carry her off. Macabre was used to fighting off the buzzards, but this time he had been completely off guard. Far too weak to keep up, he was forced to concede his loss. In a wave of rage, he combed the Ithunnwood, out for blood. Death would not escape him. He sought out its face. The next time the owl crossed his path, he killed it without second thought, superstition be damned. Death would not have her in any form. But Athanasia was nowhere to be found. Anger returned to sadness, realizing he would never see her again. That she was somewhere lost out there, a meal for the fowl. So it went, death did have the last say… Macabre wept. Broke. Lost it. As if his breath were taken right out of him. The bereaved wolf suffered a meltdown. Hallucinations abounded. Voices and visions, plaguing him as he lay at death’s doorstep. Until one sound pierced through the clamor. A quiet and shrill screeching, coming from the trees. It pulled his focus, seeming to clear away everything else. Curiosity hauled him to his feet, and to a hole in a tree. There, in the dark of the tree hollow, was a nest of eggs. Some were already hatched, with owlets screeching for their next meal. Something stirred within the grieved wolf. Like a soft whisper in the black depths of his soul. That was all it took. And Macabre was convinced. Nasi. Death gave her back.

It seemed crazy, of course, but at this point Macabre himself wasn’t so far off, willing to believe anything but that his cherished child was truly gone. Even if she did return in a different form than her previous life. His little Nasi was back. What more could he want? Macabre was certain his daughter was among the owlets he discovered. So he looked after them from that day forward, remaining in the Ithunwood; a recluse within his pack. Only one survived on his care; his beloved Athanasia. Not long after he found the owlets, Macabre found small Nasi’s body. It wounded him to put her into the earth, never to look upon that bright face again. But it was not the deep, resounding pain of permanence that once held him. Merely a parting of vessels. He had been granted mercy. His Athanasia had been returned to him. Not the same, but no less his daughter, cherished and beloved.

Macabre was gone for months when he returned to the bustle of pack life, but it was no easy reintegration. All the time he’d spent stuck in a single moment, the rest of the pack went on without him. Austeja had moved on, the news only just reaching him upon his return. She’d found happiness with someone else. It hurt Macabre, but in a sobered state of mind, he understood her reasons. So long as she was content, he would be so for her as well. The once obsessive herbalist was now herbalist no more; or at least no pristine beta. His absence costed him years of work. Though he tried to get back into the routine, it simply wasn’t the same. The fire for glory that once seared in the soul of a youth was all burnt out. And with an omen of death perched on his shoulder, it became unnerving to patients. After struggling to settle back into herbalism, Macabre retired of his task. His reputation, once a grand addition to his reputable family’s, now lay in tatters amongst the dirt and mud, scarred by his breakdown. But none of it mattered. All that did, all that ever would, had been returned to him. If it cost him everything else? He could live with that.

Macabre was never able to regain his status as a top herbalist within the United Pack after his return from the deep end. Though he’d recovered his daughter, he was stripped of everything else. So when it happened that a decidedly ordinary red she-wolf came along, with unordinary tune on her lips, calling back to the days of their ancestors, it captured the aged wolf’s attention. The United Pack made outcasts of those unlike them; Malaysia made them family. The future queen of the Kol set herself as mother of the misfits, with promises of magic and spirits and godhood. A home. A new beginning. Indiscriminate. It was no hard choice to make. This was an opportunity to recapture the heights he once soared. Macabre was won over, proud of the youth’s courage in publicly reaffirming the beliefs of their ancestors. They were no doubt proud of her too, reviving their legacy in the hearts and minds of a new generation. But Macabre was too frail to participate in the massacre of Svajone and his men, when that fateful day came. He lurked at a distance, like the buzzards, ‘til the numbers had taken their fill and satiated their bloodlust. Then scavenged from what remained before taking up after his Kol brethren in the north. There was nothing here for Macabre and his little Nasi. But he would make a new home for them in the Kol.

EXTRA

has a hind leg that is longer than the rest of his limbs, causing him to limp with the odd limb dragging behind him in a most unusual gait

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ACTIVITY LOG

+ 2 starting souls (9/#/19)
+ 1 soul for Loomi’s generosity - Svajone reaches 100 characters (9/#/19)
+ 1 soul for SVA | Offering (9/#/19)
+ 2 souls for The Hunt - Kol Team 6 [EVENT] & Collision [EVENT] (11/#/19)
- 5 souls for taking Ocuuli trade (11/#/19)
+ 1 soul for Jan 2020 opening signal boost
+ 3 souls for 2019 secret santa
+ 1 soul for Svajone: Invincible (12/#/19)
+ 2 souls for SVA | White Out (12/#/19)
+ 2 souls for covert Christmas black ops gift for Loomi (12/#/19)
- 10 souls for rank up from Eiti to Kilti
+ 2 souls for A New Arrangement (1/#/20)
+ 1 soul for SVA | Go Fish (1/#/20)
+ 4 souls for SVA | OverBEARing (2/#/20)
+ 3 souls for [Sva] Friend of the Past (4/#/20)
+ 1 soul for SVA | There Will Be Blood (4/#/20)
+ 1 soul for [Sva] Blood Ties (4/#/20)
+ 3 souls for SVA | Guts ‘n’ Buzzards (4/#/20)
+ 2 souls for SVA | A Distant Light (4/#/20)
+ 3 souls for SVA: Uninvited Guest [Collab] (4/#/20)
+ 2 souls for SVA | We’re Busy Here (4/#/20)
+ 2 souls for [Sva] Oh No I’m A Ghost (4/#/20)
+ 2 souls for [Svajone] Something Blue (4/#/20)
+ 1 souls for SVA | Ghost Hunters (4/#/20)
0 souls for SVA | Whom You Seek (4/#/20)
0 souls for SVA | Necromancer (4/#/20)
0 souls for [Svajone] Homeward Crossing (4/#/20)
+ 2 souls for birthday bonus (6/#/20)
+ 3 souls for birthday quiz (6/#/20)
+ 5 souls for SotS completion (6/#/20)
+ 3 souls from piñata event (6/#/20)
+ 1 soul from wish event (6/#/20)
+ 3 souls for SVA | Remnants (7/#/20)
+ 1 soul for Sept 2020 opening signal boost
+ 1 soul for Svajone | Festering (8/#/20)
+ 1 soul for SVA | A Kol Perspective (9/#/20)
+ 4 souls for SVA | As the Ants Do (9/#/20)
+ 2 souls for SVA | So You Wanna Be An Herbalist (10/#/20)
+ 4 souls for SVA | The Shadow of Death (10/#/20)
+ 1 soul for [SVA] Listen Closely Now (10/#/20)
+ 2 souls for SVA | Working Day and Night (10/#/20)
+ 2 souls for SVA | What’s Taking So Long? (10/#/20)
+ 2 souls for {SVAJONE} COLLAB - Eerie Visions (10/#/20)
+ 2 souls for [SVA] Grow Up, Kid (10/#/20)

+ 1 soul for ghouls-to-souls exchange (10/#/20)
+ 2 souls for Wispmas event (12/#/20)
+ 2 souls from the Christmas Stocking (12/#/20)
+ 1 soul for SVA | Castaway (12/#/20)
+ 2 souls for SVA | The World Slumbers (12/#/20)
+ 1 soul for SVA | Cramped Quarters (2/#/21)
+ 1 soul
+ 3 souls for SVA | Bitter Herbs (3/#/21)

+ 1 soul for SVA | Inane Magic (3/#/21)
+ 3 souls for SVA | Macabre’s Dream (3/#/21)
+ 2 souls for SVA | Deja Vu (3/#/21)
+ 3 souls for SVA | Macabre’s Dream Pt 2 (3/#/21)
+ 5 souls for SVA | Macabre’s Dream Pt 3 (3/#/21)
+ 2 souls for SVA | Through the Fog (3/#/21)
+ 2 souls for SVA | Curious Company (4/#/21)
+ 2 souls for SVA | Blood in the Grass (4/#/21)
+ 2 souls for SVA | Scars (4/#/21)
+ 1 soul for SVA | The Season of Giving (4/#/21)
+ 10 souls for Loner Token trade in (4/#/21)
+ 2 souls for SVA | Pins and Needles (4/#/21)
- 70 souls for shop purchase of large familiar (5/#/21)
- 20 souls for Dr. Doolittle shop purchase (5/#/21)

+ 1 soul for [SVA] Stories Told by Moonlight - MCC (5/#/21)
+ 1 soul for SVAJONE: Bleed [MAIN PLOT] (5/#/21)
+ 2 soul for SVA | A New Friend (6/#/21)
+ 2 soul for SVA | Interests (7/#/21)
+ 2 souls for SVA | In Weakness We Are Strong (7/#/21)
+ 1 soul for SVA | Traitorous Blood (7/#/21)
+ 1 soul for SVA | Delivery (8/#/21)

———————
= 34 souls