Wolf RPG - Profile of Finley Grebe

Profile of Finley Grebe: Quick Facts

Finley Grebe

Played By: Flyleaf

Marked Away: muse atrophied; still here but slow
August 31, 2020 — Unknown

Basic Info

Full Name: Finley Grebe
Subspecies: Northwestern wolf (100%)
Sex: Female
Age: 2 (May 6, 2018)
Birthplace: Idaho, USA

At a Glance

Pack loyalist by conditioning, loner by circumstance—first by exile, now by choice.

Depending on who you ask, she’s rational and well-composed and/or a paranoid stick in the mud. While not intentionally unfriendly, her “conversation” tends to come in questions. Has a lot to figure out.

As of mid-August, vaguely assuming she sustained lasting injuries from a fight on the Sunspire. Lingering around, but not officially a member of, Kaistleoki.

Quicklinks: Threadlog · Pawprints

127 Posts

Profile of Finley Grebe: Details

Appearance

Roughly 2.5' (30") at the shoulder; sturdy build, leaning more average than powerhouse. Heavy brown coat, darkest along the top from nose to tail and fading into paler shades at the underside and legs. Lighter fur also marks her inner ears and two smudged marks above her eyes, the latter serving as “eyebrows.” Hazel irises stay dull even in sunlight.

No visible scarring. Her scruff is marked by a shallow bite, left by a larger wolf over a year ago; fur hides it well.

Unless otherwise noted, can assume an alert, stiff stance, head around shoulder level, and a clipped monotone voice.

markings based loosely on this wolf and the black-necked grebe

art by yours truly

Personality

A militant follower, indoctrinated by social darwinism, who values law, order, and hierarchy above all—loyalty to which must be earned through reasonable behavior. Unamused overthinker with a seemingly permanent mask of stoicism and competence.

Finley is driven by a power complex. A highly competitive upbringing has taught her to live on high alert, slow to trust and quick to judge. If one was privy to these internal calculations they might call her high-strung; she thinks herself realistic and aware. Mirroring this, Finley thinks others should have finely-tuned exteriors, and is baffled by those who allow their impulses freer reign.

Life without conflict is not only unfathomable but unrealistic to Finley; thus, law, order, and hierarchy are key to survival. She’s been taught to follow her superiors to the grave at their command; to her, “I was just following orders” is a valid defense, and rebels are guilty by default. However, such loyalty must have firm ground; a leader who hasn’t earned their place, and/or proves incapable of holding it, is begging for mutiny.

On the other side of the scale, leadership is not something Finley aspires to, nor has she tasted power over anyone but herself. Fleeting encounters with lone wolves during the hunt have proven her methodical and unsympathetic.

She’s agreeable, really. Loyal to a fault, even. Just don’t break the rules.

Finley is Lawful Neutral with “Evil” (self-driven) leanings, but sensibility beats useless flaunts of power at every opportunity. Violence as a show of strength, such as sparring and dominance displays, is normal. Violence for its own sake, which includes maiming or killing for fun or vengeance, is childish; those who enact it are laughable and, if they hold power, dangerous.

Sentimentality is useless in Finley’s book; romantic quarrels even moreso. Talk for its own sake is an anomaly, and she has little understanding of sympathy—pity is a more likely candidate for such displays. Furthering her unaffected persona, Finley sports a fairly high pain tolerance, especially in the midst of a fight, and has been known to initiate spars as a head-clearer.

That said, for all her rationalist values, Finley is not a robot. Nagging troubles manifest as “mental fleas;” they taunt her often. During fights, if frustrated and/or feeling threatened, she goes for the throat (but has been able to stop herself in spars); a similar snappiness can manifest verbally when offended. On the other hand, on the rare occasion Finley gets her way, a youthful glee and even pride can overcome her. And of course, unrelated to all of the above, she’s had her own mistakes of impulse.

Would she confess to any of the above? No. Absolutely not. Never. It would be utterly pointless.

Biography

Before Teekon, one of many wayward exiles from her birth pack, then a loner for a year on a personal quest to prove her strength.

As a pup her name was Flea; no surname, no “Finley,” just Flea. She should have considered herself blessed; most youth in her pack received no name at all prior to their coming-of-age ceremony. Among the nomadic Helios wolves, “survival of the fittest” was so much more than a mantra, and when pups turned a year old they fought each other for the right to keep their place in the family. If they couldn’t prove themselves worthy of the Sun’s blessing, the pack couldn’t afford to drag them along.

Finley-then-Flea didn’t stand a chance, as the smallest of three—but hell if it stopped her from trying. She trained her hardest, even when it meant getting punted to the dirt by her elders (which, without a formal system of teaching, happened often). When she and her siblings went face-to-face at last… she still didn’t stand a chance.

Although she left with her head bowed, the longer Finley-then-Flea spent in exile, the angrier she grew. Sure, she’d lost, and sported a scar on her scruff to prove it. But it was only because she hadn’t had the time! With just a little more training, a little more effort, she could’ve kept her place. Soon an adjacent pack found her at their border, demanding entry and swearing she’d prove herself to them with time. They did not, however, have the patience for such an arrogant yearling, and chased her off.

The exile changed her name after that, still determined to be more than a lowly flea. “Finley” sounded more respectable; her surname, more a throwaway answer for anyone who asked than anything significant, drew from occasions where she followed gangling grebes like a stray duckling. Exile also gave Finley time to consider her mistakes. Was it that her self-worth was intrinsically tied to a hyper-aggressive concept of “strength”? …No. Of course not. Why would it ever be that. Helios was right to throw her out, as was the other pack she’d so boldly intruded on. She was lucky to have escaped both encounters with her hide intact. Her mistake, Finley concluded, was not working hard enough. And now, on her own, she had all the opportunity to train in the world.

Thus, for over a year, Finley strove to better herself. Though her brute strength was lacking in comparison to Helios, she found herself adept enough by lesser wolves’ standards. She survived the winter, which she deemed proof of her newfound strength and endurance; brief hunting alliances she made with other stray wolves had nothing to do with it. Encounters with wanderers were fleeting; unimportant, in the grand scheme of things.

Word on the wind brought Finley to the Teekon Wilds in summer (late June/early July 2020). She was keen to pledge herself to the right pack before an autumn chill set in.

Since then, life has been… less straightforward.

Shortly after venturing into the Wilds, Finley met Donovan Azura in Ravensblood Forest, staking land for his pack, the Saints of the Dying Light. In she was lured with grand tales of notoriety, of making warriors from nobodies through “an unspeakable amount” of training—but the more time passed and the more she learned of her packmates, the less brightly these promises shone.

Before long, the Saints were forced to move courtesy sour relations with adjacent packs; at the time, Finley considered this reasonable, as they were four members weak. But no sooner had they settled in the less hospitable Redsand Canyon, Donovan’s partner Nemisis picked a fight with a stranger over seemingly petty issues, and Finley’s impression of her (and Donovan’s judgment) worsened as tensions mounted at a pack “meeting.” Within days, Donovan mauled Nemisis in a nightmarish spectacle to which all Saints were invited.

Guided by a hellish mix of impulse and doubt, Finley left. For her troubles she was assaulted by a stranger, and the world made sense again.

For a detailed on-board history and more recent developments, see expanded threadlog in Pawprints.

Pack History

2018-05-06 · Helios
2019-05-06 · lone wolf
2020-07-03 · Saints of the Dying Light
underling → specialist; left
2020-07-31 · lone wolf

Profile of Finley Grebe: Additional Information

Registered on June 30, 2020, last visited (Hidden)

Finley takes herself very seriously for a wolf who named herself after an awkward duck.

“shes a swiss army knife of a wolf” —Colin (player)

profile last updated August 19, 2020: assorted updates

previously

– July 30 significant overhaul
– August 5 Finley left the Saints
– August 10 minor tweaks
– August 12 updated pawprints
– August 18 ooc tweaks

Art Credits

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Player Notes

Usually busy on Fridays & Saturdays.

Hi there! You can call me Flyleaf but any name goes, no pronoun preference. Rambling and character development are my passions and I don’t know what else to write here :D Have some RP notes.

Timeline consistency is important to me; having a gist of everything that’s happened helps me not get confused & write with full context in mind. This may cause some vagueness and/or thread-dating hijinks; pardon my overthinking! Trying to be more flexible with this ^^"
Rough average of 125–250 words (2–3 short paragraphs) per post; depending on what’s happening, >300 words isn’t unheard of, but the smaller default keeps me sane helps with motivation. At minimum I try to match length; on the other hand, no pressure to mirror mine!
No preference on OOC plotting (very welcome, also down to wing it based entirely on RP) or dice rolling methods (if any). I’m usually down with others’ preferences on both.
I’m not in the main server and prefer not to give out my Discord in public, but free to PM me with any questions, concerns, and/or just to chat!
Really, I’m just chillin’ and here to have fun ;3

Thanks for stopping by, and have a great day~

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