Email: DreamThief18@aol.com

Homepage: My LiveJournal

Species: Corvid based gryphon (raven)

GryphCode: GC.G T(Fraven Hl.af tlf eg) [f] d[omnivore] pk+ e+ Fbl-r-blu-gr-purCbl:y>bl a- g- m++ p+we b i! fa+++ c[A] s Fr+ .[mod] l+

Territory/Origin: The mountains of the Clan Razorwing, far to the north

Appearance: A young gryphon sits in front of you. She is small for her species, only slightly larger than a large siberian tiger. Instead of the normal hawk/lion blend of most gryphons, she is corvid based; specifically, raven.

You look her over. Her feathers and coat are both jet black in color. But as she shifts her weight slightly, a myriad of colors flash off of her feathers, creating a dark iridescence around her. Her beak is that of a raven's, black in color, and has a small but razor sharp hook at the tip. You manage to catch her gaze for a moment. Her eyes are medium yellow in color and are peircing, but hold evidence of deep pain and self-loathing. She only matches your gaze for a moment before looking away.

You continue to study her. Her forelegs are that of hawk, with large blade sharp talons. They are also black. Her hind quarters are that of a lion and her tail is also, only feathered at the base.

You begin to notice something about her. Her feathers are not in very good condition. Dusty and frayed, many have been broken or pulled out. She is covered with various cuts, scratches, and bruises, some old and nearly healed, many fresh. There is only one sleek spot on her entire body. Clipped over her right shoulder is a black and white barred feather. The feathers around this area are well groomed.

She shifts her weight again nervously under your gaze. It is apparent that she isn't used to being studied so closely. Her posture is that of a creature used to being abuse and expecting to be struck down at any moment. Her shoulders hunched slightly and her head down. Her ears a pinned back and she only glances at you out of the corners of her eyes.

Your gaze continues to travel over her. You look up to study her wings, when, with shock, you notice she has none. Over her shoulders is a huge gaping wound where her wings used to be. The wound itself is mostly scabbed over, but is open in spots, some still oozing. The feathers around the wound are charred and blackened.

She flinches as she sees you looking at the wound. Muttering something uninteligable, she bows hesitently and backs away from you, receiding into the shadows from whence she came.

History/Bio: You manage to catch her before she completely disappears. As she sits down again, you ask her how she came to be here. She turns her head away, not wanting to relate the story. With coaxing though, you manage to pursuade her, and hesitently, she begins to speak.

"I was born to the Razorwing clan in the far north mountains. A cold and barren place, my clan scrabbled desperately with the neighboring clans just to survive. Made up entirely of hawk-based lion gryphons, my birth came as a shock. I was born to two typical gryphons. There was no reason for me to be as I was.

"At my presentation, the elders wanted to kill me as soon as they saw me. But the old shaman stopped them. He convinced them to spare my life, though they knew not why.

"My parents never really accepted me. They fed and sheltered me, barely. I grew up harrassed by the other gryphs my age. The bane of my life was Ashryn, the son of the clan leader. He made my life a living hell until I fledged. After I fledged, I found the other gryphs couldn't catch me in flight. I was faster than they were. And for a few blissful weeks, my life was good.

"Then the shaman pointed me out to the elders. They immediately caught onto the shaman's idea. I was torn out of my home and taken to live with the training warriors. I was taught and trained to be a war machine. An assasin.

"My purpose in the clan was to fly to our neighboring clans and kill off important members. The leaders, elders, and shamans. If there was an all out battle, I was sent to the front lines."

She closes her eyes, grimacing, digging her talons into the earth. "I hated it! For years I was surrounded by nothing but treachery, blood, and death. But I lived with it. I had to. To rebel would have meant death.

"Eventually, things began to calm down. The battles grew fewer in number, as did the assassinations, as our neighboring clans were slowly destroyed. Once again, my life seemed to be looking up." She sighes. "I was wrong.

"I hadn't realized how high of a position in the clan I held. The other warriors all wanted to be where I was, most of all, Ashryn. He was furious that a creature like me was holding the postion he should have been in, being the leader's son.

"Eventually, his jealousy overcame him. I was out on a night patrol when he and a group of his friends caught me. They planned on killing me, making it look like I had been caught by another clan seeking revenge.

"I barely escaped with my life. But in the process of tearing away from then, I crippled Ashryn, sending him plummeting to his death. I made my way back to the cliff side we lived on as fast as I could, but I was so disoriented, I missed our cliff and had to backtrack. By the time I got there, Ashryn's friends had already gotten to the elders, telling them how I had ambushed them and brutally murdered Vega, the leader's, son.

"The moment I landed, the were on me, dragging me before the elders and the leader. The only punishment for the murder of another clan member is death. The elders declared my guilt and let the warriors loose on me.

"Once again, I barely managed to escape. I fled across the mountains, hoping to lose them somehow, but no matter how fast I fly, or how well I cover my tracks, they're always behind me on the horizon..."