Name:Ashley
Age:Looks to be in her late teens
Race:Human/Dog Demon
Weapon(s): Two daggers
Personality:A no-nonsense sort of person, unafraid to say what is on her mind--no matter how blunt it may be. In her dog form, she can be friendly and mischevious. She also adores playing fetch--sometimes in her human form too.
Occupation:Theif
It all started in what could be considered typical suburbs, on a frosty Christmas morning. A small girl of maybe six or seven stumbled downstairs in her pajamas. She looked over all the of bright presents tucked snugly under the Christmas tree. No doubt Santa had brought her everything on her list--except for one thing, the thing that she wanted the very most: a puppy.
Tears of disappointment filled the little girl's eyes. Not wanting to seem ungrateful however, she fled from the room, to the refuge of the front porch, where she buried her head in her hands and started to cry. Then, through her tears, she noticed a dog practically dragging itself down her street. Its fur was scraggly and matted with blood; it looked as if it had been hit by a car. Without wasting a minute, the little girl yelled for her parents and bounded out into the snow to help it.
At first, her parents were skeptical; the dog seemed to be in such a poor condition they were almost certain it wasn't going to make it--and second, it was absolutely filthy.
But the girl kept pleading, so at last, they gave in and took it to the vet. As it turned out, the dog would be just fine. Of course, said the vet, it would need one more thing in order to pull through: a loving family. The little girl couldn't be happier to be able to provide it with that.
And so, Rags, as the little girl called the dog, become a permenant member of the family. Rags became more than just a family pet to the girl, he became her best friend. Unfortunately, as it would seem, Rags would be the rapidly-growing girl's only friend. It wasn't her fault --she was plenty friendly, but the rest of the world wasn't. To put it mildly, it was just the opposite. She was fully shunned.
Acceptance is a critical thing in society, in particular to a now-teenaged girl, so she took it pretty personally. So she started to confide in her dog; she told him things that she wouldn't even reveal to her parents.
But the one-sided conversations, no matter how sympathetic of a listener Rags, made the girl even more discouraged. She wished Rags could be an actually person, instead of just a cute, scruffy dog, and she told him so frequently.
Now Rags was no ordinary dog; he had been keeping a secret from her for many years, unsure of how she would react if he told her. He had fallen in love with her. It would be considered perfectly normal for a dog to love its owner, but Rags's love was a different kind of love. It was the sort of love a human would demonstrate towards another human. Rags had shown human-like qualities, but it wasn't simply because he was an intelligent dog. He was of capable of showing such emotions because he wasn't actually a dog at all. He was actually a human, well a sort of dog-human, or a dog demon, as his kind were generally called.
For so many years, he was encouraged by his mistress's words, but could never summon up enough courage.
One evening though, after his forlorn mistress had at last fallen into a fitful sleep, Rags knew that it was time to show her his true form. For the first time in over a decade, he resumed his true shape. Then he stood by her side and kissed her on the cheek.
The girl jolted awake. She certainly hadn't expected to haven been woken by an unshaven young man, perhaps her own age, with long sandy brown hair. At first she was frightened, but after she looked into his gentle brown eyes, her fear melted. There was much confused talking, some hugging and kissing, and a few "I love you"s--and then the two knew the truth--they were meant to be together.
Soon the girl learned that she was to have a child.
Her parents weren't pleased; they didn't like the fact that this strange boy had just appeared out of nowhere and their daughter was to have his child. The kept persistently dropping hints for the girl to get rid of the baby and its father for that matter, but the girl blatently refused.
She ran away from home, determined to start a life with him. Neither one of them was seen or heard from for months. But then one day, at the exact same place and on the exact same day where it all started, a baby was dropped off on the girl's parents' front porch.
The baby girl was bundled up in a basket with a note which read simply: Please take care of her. We are unable to. The parents took it as an insult. They were estranged from their daughter for months and now they were expected to raise her love-child? They quickly sent the baby of to an orphanage.
The baby grew up in the orphanage. Nobody seemed to want to adopt her. That was just fine with her however, because she didn't want to be adopted. She wanted to find her parents and ask them why they had abandoned her. In the dead of night, she slipped from her bed, climbed down the rope of sheets she had been working on, and ran away from her home of eight years. Ashley, as the girl had been named, started to track her parents; she was unable to explain how, but she had always had an uncanny ability to track.
Her wanderings took her to many places, where she began to pick up on many skills. Since she had no money, she began to resort to theivery. One day however, she got herself caught.
She had been attempting to steal the wallet of a strange-looking man. He had a look of darkness about him and attracted many stares from people passing by. But he didn't seem perturbed by the odd looks directed at him--or by the fact that he had nearly been robbed. In fact, he seemed almost delighted to see Ashley. He steered the her down a dark alley, away from the public eye. Then he introduced himself as an old friend of her father.
This was the first time someone seemed to know something about one of her parents--no one she had talked to had been of much help.
The man seemed surprised by this statement. According to him, her father was a very well-known member of the demonic world. Ashley gave a sigh of disgust. This man was useless too. She knew that there were no such things as demons. She assumed that the man was insane, and told him to stop wasting her time--and advised checking into a mental institution. The man seemed to lose his patience. He transformed unexpectedly into a large black wolf. The majestic animal standing before her impressed Ashley into telling him her mission. The man seemed pleased by her persitence, but he said that she lacked the skills to survive in the real world. He said that he could teach her everything she would need--but it wouldn't be easy.
He was right. Every day there was a fight between teacher and student. Ashley was very headstrong, and her teacher was quick to criticise--and even faster to discipline. Ashley had to undergo much failure before reluctantly accepting the fact that she didn't know everything--and that the only way she would was to be taught.
Once she deflated her ego a little, and was able to control her impatience, she proved to be a very quick learner, no matter how boring or pointless her lessons may have been. After strenuous years of training, Ashley felt ready to resume her search for her parents. She had come a long way and was very pleased with her progress. She hadn't fully perfeted her shapeshifting abilities, but she had become very talented with a pair of daggers.
Her teacher didn't see eye to eye with her. He felt that she still lacked in tactic and ability and that there was much more she could still learn. Ashley refused. She had no desire to have any more useless information shoved down her throat--she didn't want to be a walking Encyclopedia; she knew enough now to get by in life. With that thought firmly embedded in her mind, Ashley set off to find her parents...
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you really seem to like anything related to werewolves don't you?