"When all is dark, light is a curse. A fire at night is a mixed blessing; it scares the critters away, but might get you a knife in the throat when you fall asleep." ~
MothName
'Moth'Age
~22
Appearance
A destitute appearance, at best. The young man seems to be lithe and toned rather than muscular or strong in any defined fashion, and his skin is rough from a life of wandering. Having known no home, his features are edged with the rough, self-grown, roughness common of those who live long periods of time alone; his hair is shorn and wild, his hands calloused and hard from overuse and constant work, and his body scarred by both wildlife and aggressor alike.
His skin is pale however, a sign of those who flourish at night. Due to its paleness, scars stand out sharply in contrast; darker hues crossing his arms and hands in a grim display of his rough life.
His hair is a light shade, and his eyes are hollow and dark- the eyes of someone who has seen more bad in themselves than in the world around them.
Profession
Trapper // Hunter
Affiliation
None
Equipment
Stone Knife - An excellent tool he picked up during his travels in the west from the remnants of one of the wandering tribes- but ultimately no different than any other knife, and sub-par in comparison to well maintained metal counterparts. Handle wrapped in leather to assist in maintaining grip in adverse situations.
Atlatl - A curious tool he picked up in his travels in the western lands, originating with the tribes located there. Used in conjunction with spears or darts to assist in hunting.
Trap tools and components - Listing out the various components and uses would be tedious, so a short summary will instead be employed; the various components and tools utilized to create snares, pitfalls, and other such simple traps. Time and planning would be needed to create anything complex.
Spear - A common weapon; a wooden pole mounted with a sharpened metallic head, primarily a tool of defense and hunting
Hunting Darts - Large wooden darts headed with metallic heads, used primarily for hunting
Leather pack - A rudimentary and rugged pack made of hides and tanned leather over years of travels, a useful carrying tool.
Light clothing - Moth travels light and fast, aside from his tools
Other basic necessities such as water skins and food pouches, etcMiscellaneous [Moreso notes for Phoenix than anything really important]
Moth is very much so nocturnal at heart, and time spent awake during the day or in bright light causes intense discomfort and sluggishness that many of us would associate with being awake around 3-5 AM.
Moth is a scavenger and skulker at heart, and would rather flee than engage in open combat. This has caused the man to develop into a deftly perceptive schemer.
Background"A moth, drawn to flame.
An interesting thing to witness, really.
Spark up a fire and they'll flock straight to it... It's no wonder this man is called 'Moth'..."Fire, a solitary beacon in the night. The plains of the Midwest truly were barren, save this lonely tear of hope. Three people sat by the fire- two huddled together close to the flame to ward off the chill, and a third gripping a spear and peering into the dark, facing away from the flame. He appeared almost sickly in his paleness.
"This...This Moth. What makes you bring him up now?" The woman asked, casting a wary glance to the spear bearing man.
"This fire. I was sitting at one myself not too long ago when he crept out of the night and asked to share my fire for the night, to escape the chill. I sat watch the early part of the night while he ate and slept, then he took over. It was all very ordinary. You know how it is- you tend a fire, someone more destitute than you comes along and you tag together for a while. Like you two- you stumbled upon my campfire tonight and I'm letting you warm yourselves and rest." The man spoke evenly all while regaling his guests with his story, not even bothering to ruin his night vision by facing the fire to speak to them.
"I roused him and let him go about preparing himself for his watch. While I started to settle down to rest we talked of travelling eastwards together, maybe picking up a few others like yourselves to make the travels safer and keep some of the nastier creatures off of our backs. Things got odd really quick as we talked- he muttered about how dangerous other people could be, about how it'd be best to extend an open hand while keeping a knife in the other to sorts like you. We had a difference in opinion on that matter- I'm fond of travelers and meeting people. A little due kindness keeps you safer than unwarranted paranoia..." A bitter laugh escaped the man.
"I don't trust people who crawl out from the night myself." the man by the fire grunted out in a rough voice. "I don't gut 'em for doing it though, I just sleep with an eye open."
"Aye, that's what I did myself, friend. I settled in and lay real still, keeping this spear close at hand. A few hours into his watch he started to get real twitchy, and sprung at me with a knife-- it's where this scar came from." The storyteller lifted an arm, the firelight making the jagged scar down his forearm readily apparent.
"I caught him off guard. He thought I was asleep, but he ran off before I could stick 'im. In the morning when I looked around, traps were on all sides of my fire and I had to spend the best part of the mornin' picking a safe path out of there. This was a few weeks ago though, so I think that Moth fellow scampered off to new territory. I would've seen him again if he'd stayed. I spent a while warning anyone I passed by about him, just like I'm doing now.""Well...Thank you. We're headed west, not east, so your warning is very much so welcome. After tonight we're headed separate ways anyway..." The woman sighed and shook her head. "I told you this was dangerous..." she hissed to her male companion
"Rest awhile, then move on in the morning then. I'll keep the first watch."...
---
The morning's light rises over the plains, and casts is glow down upon the earth. A campsite where, just last night, three people sat chatting jovially was now inhabited by no souls and two empty vessels; two corpses, cleanly stabbed through the breast each one, were the only things left by the smoldering ashes of a dying fire. Their companion had moved on in the night.
---
As a small child, Moth was like any other; he walked during the days, ate and slept and worked to further his tribe's well being through training and dedication. Dedication turned to obsession as he grew older however, and he began to leave the tribe's lands for weeks at a time to test himself in the wilderness- and during one such excursion he ventured too deeply into an ancient ruin.
Glow, that's what his people referred to it as. The Glow. Moth- known as River Fox back then- had been exposed to remnants of an old cataclysm, and it had weakened his body and given him a delirium...
He fell prey to his own traps in his maddened state- fleeing The Glow was impossible once it was rooted into his system, and the snares and pitfalls he relied on to protect himself soon became his worst nightmare.
Stumbling out of the city's ruins he triggered a snare and felt the bite of the rope as it dug into his ankle's skin and swung him off his feet, slamming him into the trunk of the very tree he had climbed to prepare the trap. A smash of flesh against black wood resounded in his stupor escalating as his head reeled from both movement and impact.
He doesn't know how long he hung there, but this was only the beginning of his nightmare.
He soon found the strength to cut himself free... Once again causing himself to fall and impact upon the ground. His ankle was injured- he was no healer, he couldn't tell you what kind of injury he sustained- and it pained him to walk on it, but it was a necessity he endured by favoring that side and using his spear as a walking stick.
Many more traps lay between him and his camp, and his delirium was warping it all into one crazed dash for his life to the familiarity of his campfire...
---
Exiled, that's a word with horrendous meaning for someone such as River Fox. Someone who's entire life was dedicated to the sole cause of assisting his brothers and sisters in survival. He was sick, weak, a detriment to their society- less than useless, a drain on resources. Casting him away was the best choice for them...
And for River, it was as if the seasons changed. He was no longer a part of the clan and wished to leave all identity of himself behind; thus the being known as Moth was born.
Moth wandered, hunting and trapping quietly for much of his life, travelling ever eastward to escape his past...And, eventually, he warped into even more of a destitute creature, preying on the occasional human like a scavenger picking through carrion.
