Inktail Furtif,

  • Name:Inktail Furtif
    Age: 20
    Occupation: Currently an idler but willing to help when asked

    Physical Appearance: A Little shorter than your average weasel, light and lithe build, he's got a brass hoop through his left ear, with a small chink missing from the right one.
    His fur is mostly brown with the white/cream underbelly some of his species sport, however some odd little quirk gave him a dark black tail. Usually seen wearing forest green trousers, plain sandals, and a leather belt.
    His posture usually is relaxed, maybe even a tad smug or cheeky, a smirk playing about his features with his dark eyes seeming to study you.

    Possessions: Asides from the clothing mentioned he normally has a piece of flint, a steel knife, and a well worn sling on him most of the time, along with a pack and a few extras in it if he is planning on wandering far, this includes, line and a hook for fishing, a good pan to cook in, and a water-skin.

    Personality: He's actually fairly playful, he loves to tease and be teased, though he sees a big difference between teasing and mocking and tends to get annoyed quickly when he feels he's being mocked, the reason being that as something of a runt he got his fair share of flack for being short.Though he never means harm by his teasing, if his playful ribbing and pranks upset anyone he tends to feel rather chastised.When alone he tends to hum as he walks, thinking of what could be done that day.
    He's not a loner, but experience has led him to approach others with caution, he may be little more than a prankster but he's still a weasel and they have a bad rep so he takes his time, well except with otters. The fact that one of them was the one to help him out makes him rather at ease with them, he'll walk right up and sit next to an otter where with even a mouse he'll take it a fair bit more slowly.
    Though he does not think any of the creatures guarding their homes along the River moss need his help, he sees no harm in having an extra set of eyes out, even if they may also be looking for ways to get a friendly chuckle out of the next passerby.

    -Fairly Clever

    -Physically lacking in strength
    -Easily startled

    Inktail's story, at first it seemed like much any other young weasel's story in the area he grew up in, started learning to raid, and bully. The weak deserve to have their things taken, if they didn't they wouldn't be weak.
    His particular tribe lived near the rivers, and had a special fear of the otters, they were used as warnings to all young ones, and were a foe that emerged victorious more often than not. It was one of those skirmishes that changed things for Inktail.
    The attack was sudden and fierce sling-stones and javelins filling the air as the otters struck and the weasels fought back, Inktail was still very young then, too young to join in the fight, but even he was not safe from a stray stone one of his tribe had fired. With a sharp crack it struck his footpaw and he fell to his side.
    The rest of the night is a blur until after the fight, one of the otters approached him, and began to dress his paw, it stopped hurting so much, allowing him to stand.
    Since then he's been making his own way, living by the river moss, and taking life one day at a time.
    No longer a raider, he's been known to actually stand against vermin attacking anyone when he's nearby enough to help, he thanks that nameless otter for bringing him to see things in a different light like this. Instead of becoming another raider, clashing with otters, shrews, and anyone not willing to let him take what he wishes, he's more just trying to make a few friends and figure things out in, relative, peace for now.

    He is not, close, to his family.
    Friends: Dallas: A big Otter, and good friend of his, he trusts the big guy like he does few others.
    Jellal: His first real friend, the rat thief from far off has been there in thick and thin.

    Though he enjoys fish he also has a bit of a taste for the sweeter berries that he can find.
    He never got the name of the otter that helped him out, but he does not mind, he figures it could have been any of them so why would he need to single one out.
    He did learn to swim quite well from further meetings with otters, something he's quite glad of.
    He's learned to use that sling he carries quite well, having become a good shot, and fairly capable of battering a foe if they get too close.

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