Brynhild Vor
|:| M I R K V I D R |:|
NAME: Brynhild Vor
FACTION: ---
RANK: ---
SPECIES: Lupo (Hénoitur)
AGE: 24
SEX: Female
HEIGHT: 5' 11"
EYES: Amber
HAIR: Mahogany
SKIN: Light Tan
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes
+Protective Spirit
+Surprising Grace
+/-Eidetic Memory
+/-Curious Nature
-Emotional Heart
-Envious Thoughts
Brynhild stands five feet, eleven inches tall, with a full figure and curves for days. She often dresses to accentuate her shape with fitted clothing, and enhances her height with heels. She loves being tall and savors a good pair of stilettos. Her thick hair is generally in natural, loose curls that hang down to the small of her back. She has several piercings in each ear, and a delicate tattoo of a tree on her upper back.
I have only the faintest memories of my parents. More impressions, really, like the whisper of a lullaby from my mother's sweet voice and the security of my father's arms. I have more memories of the orphanage I grew up in than I do of them. My best friend Nenha, a Twi'lek with skin the prettiest shade of pink you've ever seen. Arkov, an older Devaronian boy with a penchant for protecting the littlest ones among us. It wasn't the best place to grow up, but it was better than the streets we ended up on after it burned down. Never did find out what started the fire, but we all had our suspicions. The headmistress did have a penchant for falling asleep with a lit deathstick in her fingers...and she was the only one of the adults that didn't make it out alive.
I'll save you the knowledge of how many of us kids perished and what those screams sounded like. Over ten years later and I can still hear them at night.
That being said, though, I was one of the lucky ones. Nenha got taken by Black Sun slavers, and Arkov died a few months later when he got sick. I stayed, though, having found a few shops who would let me run errands in exchange for some bits of food and the occasional night spent in a dry storage room. Wasn't much, but it helped me survive until I could get myself off world. I eventually ended up on Weyland just before my fifteenth birthday. Found bits of work and places to stay whenever I could, but I took every moment I could to be out in the forests. Imagine my surprise when I first started to change. The pain was maddening...I was out of my mind with it for hours both during and after.
The freedom of my wolf form was worth it when I figured it out though. Running soundlessly through the forests, sleeping comfortably under the stars, eventually teaching myself to hunt. Thank the gods I had the instincts for it, because I certainly didn't have anyone to help me. Doesn't matter though. I survived. I got older. My change slowly became easier.
I left Weyland after a few years, finding steady work with a group of scientists and naturalists who studied the flora and fauna of different arboreal worlds. Met a Jedi once, who was on a pilgrimage to Endor. What I thought was purely instinct when I was barely surviving turned out to be instinct bolstered by a 'mothering strong' Force gift. He stayed with the group I worked with and taught me what he could in the span of a few months before he was recalled to his Order. He asked me to go, but I refused...that wasn't my path to walk.
It still isn't, but I don't know what is. I'm surviving, but there's a pull towards something I just can't put my finger on that's getting really hard to ignore.