VOLTAIRE FAMILY = 1 OPEN.

Lea here, the guest from the cbox. :) Her personality reads like something of a combined history and personality, since they're so closely tied together. If that's a problem, I can separate them.

name: Constance
age: 5 years.
birth season: Spring
personality: As a child, Constance was as pure hearted an individual as her brother had been. The two had been close as babes, though naturally as they aged and Creedance fell head over heels in love with his Amaranth, the two grew to see slightly less of one another. Still the bond remained strong, and Constance's love for her sole sibling did not fade. She was an innocent creature, adventurous and playful; the idea of hurting another wolf would have been repugnant to the child. Her life was idyllic, her worries few and far between.

Then the mercenaries came, and her world collapsed in upon itself.

When the attack came, Constance had been wandering by herself, and was one of the first to be found. The creature that happened upon the girl had been a lecherous old thing who had taken a sadistic shine to her. Rather than tear at her throat and grant the lass a quick death, he had taken her prisoner, herding her back to his homeland. As she was wrenched from her home, she caught sight of her brother defending his mate. She never did see him fall, and the fact that he stood to protect Amaranth and not her stung in a way that she had never before felt. It was then that the first shard of ice found itself a home in Constance's heart.

For a year and a half the once-girl, now-woman was held in that hell. Beatings and rapes were common, and her captor was hardly loathe to share her amongst his comrades. While such treatment might leave some creatures cowering and submissively afraid, it seems to have had the opposite affect on the Voltaire daughter. Her heart has become hardened, with her shield of bitter cruelty worn night and day. Biding her time, she eventually escaped from the mercenary camp, quietly slitting the throats of the main aggressors as she left. The others she left to wake to the sight of their slain companions.

For a long time she had held out hope that her brother might come to find her, and save her from that hell. But he had never shown. Unaware that his lady love had been taken and presumably killed, she spent many a night obsessively picturing the two doting over their pups, having completely forgotten her in their bliss. Time did not heal that very first hurt, though killing the mercenaries had made a good start on her recovery from the others. Now she follows old trails and whispers of memories as she seeks to track down dear Creedance. It has taken years and a good deal of her life, but finally she draws close.

post sample: (Warning for bad language! Naughty Lea! ;p)

Pale paws struck the ground as the assassin moved through the mountain pass. The rock beneath her feet was cold, and the sheer stone walls to either side loomed threateningly. Now and then streams of small rocks clattered down the side of the pass, and the wind whispered promises of full-on rock slides. Ignoring them, Constance kept up her steady pace. Her mortality was not something that the woman feared. Her year with the mercenaries had convinced her that the hell waiting for her after this life couldn't possibly be as bad as the experiences to be had right here, in life.

A pack a few days back had remembered something about a wolf carrying her brother's name, and from the sound of it, his soul had turned almost as black as her own. The thought was a satisfying one. Perhaps he had found his comeuppance then. Naturally, the scent trails that might have led her to the man were long gone by now, but something told the pale shadow that she was getting close. Soon enough she would happen upon fresh tracks, and he would be found. Quite what she would do when she did finally find the bastard was currently unclear, but she would think of something, to be sure...