Profile of Olive

Big, blonde and beautiful. Three easy words to describe her but far from a fair assessment. Much as she would have preferred the opposite, she has a way of standing out in a crowd, from the way she walks to the way she talks. Her movements have purpose, like she has a mission to complete or a lot on her mind. Her serious, dark green eyes have a habit of locking onto that which has caught her attention, scrutinizingly and without apology.

Her huge frame is lean and long, muscular but deceivingly so. Unlike in her youth, there is nothing ungainly about Olive now, she has grown into each length, creating an image she could not have envisioned as a child. Perhaps even now, she does not see herself as she should. Perhaps she cannot get past amount of scars she has accumulated throughout her encounters. The starburst on her right cheek from her stepfather, the jagged lines across her stomach from Vidar.

Others lay too deep to be hidden, down her back, littering her legs. The rest sit beneath her coat, from prying eyes. The coat itself starts as white upon her legs, her stomach, the underneath of her neck and muzzle. From there it increases in golden tones to become a dark blonde before reaching her spine. Along it, dusting the entire length from the tip of her tail to the bridge of her nose, delicately circling her eyes, are brown and red hairs.

Though it would be hard to believe upon first meeting her, Olive is quite the emotional being. She can be closed off, cold, business like depending on the setting. Those that take the time to get past her frosty, sarcastic and serious exterior find that there's a lot more to her than her work. She is extremely passionate, though that passion can sometimes present as anger. As does her fear, if the state is even possible for her anymore. She has long since learned to run at her problems head on and only back down when there are no other options open.

She carries herself with an air of authority, something she'd lost for some time but has since gained back with a vengeance. Olive is not someone easily intimidated or subdued. As a child, she learned how to take a beating, and later on how to stop it. Those lessons are not the type one forgets. Not that Olive could. She has a photographic/idetic memory, which means, bar suppressed traumatic events, she remembers pretty much everything she experiences. It's why she's so singleminded when it comes to grudges.

When inspired, she becomes almost obsessive, especially when she is on a job. This can lead her to become impulsive, to the point of being reckless with herself. Whatever it takes to protect and take care or others. Those are the most important things in her life, what gives her purpose. It is where her intellect, her ability to see patterns and make sense of the small clues left behind by her quarry, finds its use. Her family, small as it is, will always be important to her but she has become used to being a part from them.

Olive is not the most sociable of creatures, owing to her inability to trust with any degree of depth. Her circle is small, filled only with those she can count on. Yet, surprisingly enough, she enjoys a good festival. To drink and dance, find reasons to smile. Her smile often doesn't meet her eyes, though it's radiant when it does. Any mirth expressed can have a dark edge to it, the life she's lead has given her a taste for black humour. The one thing she never has trouble expressing is kindness. Compassion is built into the very fabric of her being, especially where children are involved.

Even when faced with the worst odds, Olive is incredibly brave and strong, with a persistence that never tires. She possesses a moral compass and instincts that rarely fail her and an ability to compartmentalize those things that are traumatic. Her anger once invoked can not be easily appeased, her ability to love is just as stubborn.

Her mother, Ophelia, was born to noble parents. The man she married, Hector was equally wellborn. He was a good, decent man, who worked to protect the peace. A high ranking officer in the imperial army until he turned in his notice when he met Ophelia, turning to hunting and gathering, honest work in a place outside of the lands they'd been born to. The place they settled was similar to Rionnach and was a land of nobility, where women were small and delicate and men were the stronger sex and therefore, needed for manual work whilst the women entertained each other.

Their union was blessed multiple times over the years. Twins brothers were the first to arrive, one red for the mother, the other white for the father. They were everything one could expect and both were initiated for training when their sister finally arrived. The labour was long tiresome, stealing the mother of her strength but when Olive finally came into the world, everything about her broke the mold.

She came as an only child, with a coat that blended both parents design except for her eyes. They were a throwback to her mother's mother. It was the sheer size of her which made it clear why she had come alone and from there she would stand out. The more she aged, the more she grew, towering over the over children. Olive did her best to fit in, learning to read, to write. She was taught many things, languages and songs. Dancing was dreadful. She loved it and hated it all at once for she was always larger than her partners and her body stayed cumbersome for some time.

Gangly and awkward, it was those times she spent with her brothers that she adored. They didn't see her as an oddity and in secret, they trained her to fight the way they had been. She was too young of course, clumsy and not in full control of her body but she absorbed everything they said like a sponge. That was another remarkable thing about her. She had a freakishly good memory.

When her mother fell pregnant again, this time the pups came early and with sorry consequences. Two of them died shortly after birth but the third, a little girl, survived. Enid became the best thing in her world. Olive loved her sister fiercely. She was tiny and the sweetest thing she'd ever laid eyes on. It was that love that helped her through the loss of her father. To lose the man who had been a pillar in her life, everything a father and a husband should be, was devastating.

The worst part came after, when her mother found a new mate. With two young children, for her oldest were grown, Ophelia had had to look at the lower classes. Her light had gone out with the death of Hector, causing a great depression. She became small in all ways and the vile male she fell for used and abused them all. Once married, he was elevated to places he shouldn't have been and his ego became apparent, as well as his temper. He particularly couldn't stand Olive.

She did all she had to to protect her mother and sister from the brute, her grandparents too old to stop him and the rest seeing no problem. They were his to do with as he pleased. Olive continued her studies and did all she could to make her mother proud. Her training with her brothers became a scarse blessing but she was finally getting the hang of it. It stopped the night he found out what she was doing, a few months before her second birthday. And that was the night she nearly killed him. It was her inexperience and her overwhelming fear that stopped her from succeeding.

While she was still weak from her injuries, the brute had her sold to a peculiar pack of wolves. These creatures where mountainous in size and it worried her how close she was in height. That seemed to be the reason a price could be agreed. The beasts would move on if they received fresh meat. Much was said about it being a great honour, to protect the civilisation she had grown up in, but she knew the truth. They were scared and using her as a bargaining tool.

The one she was given to spoke little English. In fact, he spoke no language that she recognised, as did the rest from one extent to the other. They were savage, feral wolves with many strange customs. The strangest was their attitude towards their women. They were as dangerous as the males and just as inclined to fight, with freedoms she had never dreamed off. She eventually learned their language and whilst she was still considered a slave, Olive came to adjust to her new life.

It was a harsh existance but she found some benefits.though she was not to engage, she learned what she could of the way these wolves fought, their patterns of behaviour. It was all do alien. Vidar, her supposed owner, was not the worst of men but as she came of birthing age, it became apparent why a price had been put on her. At first, she had resisted his advances, but he was persuasive, and even charming once she could understand the things he said. He made promises, promises that would mean freedom, something twice she had failed to achieve on her own. So she gave him what he wanted.

Throughout her captivity, and the time that came during her brief pregnancy, Olive found a friend amongst the feral wolves. Hilde, Vidars sister. The life of a captive was not easy and her priorly controlled temper frayed at the edges as she pushed at the boundaries, much as she had with her stepfather. Hilde frequently stepped in to avoid further damage to her brothers property, or so it seemed. The woman seemed to look for opportunities to be in Olives company and it was good company. She thought the stories of how she had been raised were as strange as her own stories were to Olive.

They grew close, and more than once she offered her brother a price to take his slave from him. He wouldn't concede and once she fell pregnant, it became a mute point. It didn't harm their friendship though, for it was the only thing to cling to when everything else had been lost. Her pups were the next thing to be lost, before they had even been big enough to draw breath. As had been warned, her youth was not necessarily a blessing and instead of bringing about life, Olive brought death.

Vidar was different after the miscarriage and became increasingly fustrated when she failed to fall pregnant again. It was unbearable, yet her world was not complete darkness. Somewhere along the way, Hilde and she had crossed the barriors of friendship. It was such an insidious emotion, love, it crept in with not much fanfare and was surprisingly hard to ignore once it made itself known.

They kept it secret for a time but Vidar found out and was furious. A fight ensued and this time there was no hesitation. Both women brought him down with an ease neither had expected. It was exhilarating and that troubled her. The acts of these mountains against other wolves were hideous to her, they cut down anything in their path. So to find that she too was made for such destruction... It was a problem for another day. To attack ones owner was beyond what could be tolerated and Olive knew she had one chance to run.

Hilde followed her without question and the pair eluded the wolves who came after them through a joint effort. Perhaps her life would have taken a different turn, had her brave love not fallen ill. At first, it was believed that her injuries were infected but the healers Olive took her to could find no cure and with each passing day, Hilde faded. After her burial, Olive finally acknowledged how she'd changed. The trials of her short life had molded her into something hard, like ice or steel. She'd withdrawn and became all that her upbringing had tried so desperately to subdue.

Her excellent memory made it possible to find the place she had been born, not that much remained for her there. Her mother had died shortly after she'd been sold, both her brothers had left for families of their own and her sister... the girl had remained the property of that brute but not for much longer. For the second time in her life, Olive made a move to take this mans life but like an eel, he escaped. This time, he fled like the coward he was but not before he'd marked her face.

It was a reminder that she was finally what she was always going to be, an imposing creature to be feared and respected. Reunited with Enid, her smiles returned, even if they sometimes lay heavy with things unsaid. She found her sister a safe pack to live with and as was right, Enid found a sweetheart to settle down with. She was young but they seemed happy together which was fine by Olive. Leaving her a second time was painful but she had something she needed to do.

She went looking for her stepfather. Tracking him down was an intriguing experience, one Olive found she was well equipped for. She even had help. It turned out that some wolves made a living searching for those who do not want to be found and through finding an ally, Olive thought she had stumbled across something more. Carlos was by her side when she dragged the rat from his hole and did not flinch when she put an end to the evil that had plagued her life.

Her third birthday came and went and with it she received a wonderful gift, alongside a betrayal that would make her question her own instincts. Jobs came easy for Carlos and Olive, together they were efficient in a way that made their web difficult to escape. She did it for more than the reward. It was the puzzle, the following of clues which lead to the capture of evil individuals. Of knowing she had made a difference. There was one that constantly eluded them. He was always a step ahead and when Olive found out why, her rage was unmatched.

To love and hate someone is a terrible thing. Carlos had been feeding the wolf information and reaping the rewards. They eventually caught up with the man, when his bounty was so extensive that many had took up his trail. Carlos became very passionate about being the one to take him down and it made her suspicious. Of course he was competitive, as was she, but the lengths he began to go to, that he pushed her to... It was beyond what she could tolerate. Throwing it in her face was his mistake.

The man she loved had broke every vow they had ever made as Knights for Hire. Mercenaries was the term Carlos preferred but in Olives mind, the only thing stopping them from being true Knights was the lack of someone decent to serve longterm. But Carlos had liked the money that came with the work. For Olive, it had merely been a perk. Eventually, feeling lost and without direction she found herself travelling to a place she had heard about as a child, the lands her parents had left behind. Hopefully, there would be someone here to make good use of her skill sets, without leaving her feeling like a set of fangs bought to tear enemies apart.

Olive wanted so many things but she needed something more. A purpose, something worth fighting for, or someone. A good cause.