Heather

Kara (Sister, NPC)

Shiloh (Niece)

## Application Sheet

Heather was a rosy-brown-furred she-wolf with fiery orange eyes. She was born in Riverfell, to Gold Feather Morgan and a mother named Rose (NPC). She had one sister - Kara (NPC) who would later give her a single niece named Shiloh, who would become the leader of Riverfell. Heather served her pack as a Sage, and her story is ongoing. Heather was designed by Quaylak, and created and RP'd by PaperElk.

## Personality

* ***Gentle, Kind, Humorous, and Diligent.*** While gentle and kind, Heather also has a natural habit of being lighthearted and jovial. She knows when someone needs a good cheering up, and sometimes a patient just needs a little extra something to get them feeling better. Quips and jokes might not be the *most* common from her, but she enjoys a good laugh and appreciates those who can lay a down a good wisecrack or two. Being serious all the time isn’t good for your health, after all. Despite enjoying some good antics, she is very hard working and will rarely – if ever – shirk responsibilities. She has a job to do, and she does it with painstaking precision and duty. She is proud of her work for the wolves of Riverfell and she will work tirelessly to see it done.
* ***Modest and Decisive.*** Heather is a rather modest when it comes to talk of love and mates, preferring to keep her thoughts about such things to herself, and will absolutely refuse to speak of it pertaining to herself. She doesn’t think it’s proper for her to speak on attraction and anything surrounding it, having been worried to catch the eye of the wrong wolf. Now that Shiloh has changed the pack dynamics… She might learn to loosen up. As Master Sage, she needs to be quick on her toes and even quicker with her decisions, and she does not fail in this regard. Strong-willed when it comes to helping those who need healing or spiritual help, and will treat a patient no matter their status, species, or pack. When she makes a decision, she sticks to it, and will carry out her word, to a T.
* ***Overly Disciplined, and Has Difficulty Expressing Emotions.*** Because of her upbringing in the old Riverfell, Heather, as a female, has been conditioned to take a certain level of behavior toward her that might not be healthy and has a rather steady good demeanor about her that she is almost afraid to let slip. When upset or bothered, she will take time to herself rather than express her feelings to someone, out of habit.

## Pre-Group History

Born to doting parents Rose and Morgan, Heather wanted for nothing as a pup, though she wasn’t one to ask for much in the first place. She was a bit of a cautious child, preferring to stay nestled in her mothers’ fur, or tucked under her fathers’ legs, asking to be told stories while Kara tumbled about, far more energetic than her sister. While her golden pelted sibling would often badger their father to take her out of the den to see the world, Heather was content to stay inside and listen to her mother talk about her job as a pack Sage.

Unlike her sister, Heather found herbs and legends intriguing almost immediately, drawn to the tales of Siamsa and the stars. Even the way her mother spoke about the Heart Stone, despite being a little scary, piqued her interest. *All the souls passed through it?* She was in awe, hanging off every word her mother said, knowing almost from the first day that she would follow in her mothers’ pawsteps.

While they never ran with the same group of friends, Heather and Kara were close, swapping stories of what they’d learned during the day, or the mischief they’d – or, just Kara really – had gotten up to. Heather would spin tales of Gold Feathers long passed, and on more than one occasion, before they’d grown too much to be wise to how females were treated in Riverfell, they’d make up their own stories of the two of them being grown Gold Feathers. While they were never serious to her, it would only take a few more months for those words to ring much truer for her sister.

She wasn’t *shocked* when Kara told her in confidence of her plan to take up the long route to being the first female Gold Feather, but she *was* worried. Would they let her? Would they beat her even for the thought of it? She expressed her fears but promised that she would be there for Kara no matter what she chose to do; and no matter what happened. Heather was also worried about how their father would take it… Morgan was not cruel, but he was close-minded, and while she didn’t think he’d harm Kara… She also didn’t want to see her sisters’ dream crushed just as she had decided to have it realized.

Somehow, Kara managed to work her way into the rank, and Heather was delighted for her sibling, but it only lasted so long. Because of their differing paths, it was hard to find time to spend with each other, and with Kara’s rough training regiment, Heather found her sisters’ personality becoming a little bolder and snappier than she could handle. She knew that Kara needed to be twice as strong, twice as quick, twice as mean to keep up with the males who looked down on her, but it definitely hurt their relationship.

In the meanwhile, she walked her own path with their mother, learning the ins and outs of Sage work, reciting tales to pups, tending to the wounded Hunters and Riders.

She loved hearing of other packs and their funny customs, and once in a while a few of the Riders would bring back new and strange herbs, or a small trinket she would ask for before they left, decorating her herb stash with tokens from all over the domain. She would listen raptly to their stories of far off places and packs as she mended them, adding in a funny quip now and again, usually to warm laughter. While she was devoted to Riverfell and its lore and legends, she found myths and tales from other packs interesting, and would make a point to ask any of her patients to recall any they had – it helped keep them calm while she worked.

As she climbed the ranks of Sage, she found herself thinking of the future and who and what she wanted to be, her mind often wandering to thoughts of family and children. Heather had always loved puppies; their excitable nature, proclivity for getting into mischief… but she had never wanted to be a mother herself. The thought of having something growing inside her… moving… It made her shudder, even if she saw it as a joyous occasion when others were pregnant. She was motherly to any little ones who came her way, and she wondered idly now and again if someone might act as a surrogate for her if she ever asked, or if it would even be allowed.

Bringing new life into the world was a gift, a blessing even. Just not one she ever wanted to experience for herself. Because of this, Heather spent much of her time avoiding the gaze of any male that looked her way, refusing to speak of any sort of feelings toward any of them in fear of being pursued.

As Kara clawed her way through her training, Heather found herself becoming friends with another female, Autumn, who had found herself in rough shape after a hunting accident. She had a fairly sizable wound after a mishap with a stag, and Heather had been tasked with being her sole caretaker while the pack was busy with other things. It didn’t take long for them to get close. Autumn was funny, and warm, charming, and boisterous, but still polite and kind, and Heather was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

For the first time, Heather found herself wondering if what she was feeling was love. Surely not. There were no female couples in the pack, and what would that even entail? There was no male in the picture; how could they serve them if they didn’t take a male for a mate? Her feelings confused her, and she did her best to stay away from the red coated female, but it wasn’t like she could keep her distance forever. And she found she didn’t want to, either.

Even after Autumn’s injuries healed, she could often be found hanging around the Sage’s dens and would often look for herbs for them on her hunts, the two nearly inseparable. They were careful to never arouse suspicion, and Rose covered for them more than once, telling the others that her daughter was devoted to Siamsa alone, though Heather was sure there was a glimmer of recognition in her mothers eyes when she looked at the pair of them.

Only another month or so more, and Kara would be named a Gold Feather. Heather cheered her on from afar, pride swelling in her chest at her sister’s accomplishment. *She had done it*. She had really done it. She had always known Kara had had it in her – she had been more convinced that Saerian would take back his word and refuse to allow her the title.

And it would be a devastatingly short time before that thought was proven true by his son.

Pyre had committed the most egregious offense, and when Kara had come to her, shell-shocked and broken, Heather felt true rage for the first time in her life. And while most of it was directed toward the male who had assaulted her, a good portion of that anger was aimed at their father. Heather and Magnus had been close all throughout her life, having had a good relationship and meshing personalities, while Kara and he tended to butt heads. But she had *never* expected him to place the blame on Kara in this situation. She would never express it in words, or even in actions, but a small part of her felt she could never respect her father in the same way again after that day.

When Kara was apprehended the following morning, she stood next to her mother, her legs aching to rush to her sister’s side, to be with her and to shoulder the burden, the flame of anger burning bright in her stomach as Kara was stripped of her role and rank. To make things worse, only a few weeks later, her mother had to announce to them the growing life within Kara, and the females shared a look full of grief and uncertainty. Her fate was sealed.

Trailing her sister that night, looking for something to say that could help somehow, she hung back in the treeline as she tried to speak to their father. When he offered nothing but stoic silence, she hung her head. So, he wouldn’t fight for her… When Kara fled, she followed.

***“Stay.”***

It was the only thing she could whisper to Kara after trailing her to the border, but she knew Kara couldn’t. There was nothing left here for her now. Nothing but disgrace, and a pack that would only view her as the mother of Pyre’s pups, and she would be forced into a role that would destroy her.

She watched as Kara escaped over the border.

With the Quarter Feast coming up, Heather was able to mask her grief by passing it off as just being tired, having been busy collecting herbs and other bits from around the territory, taking longer and longer walks as it drew nearer. To her surprise, Pyre was suddenly handed a small, insignificant punishment, but word spread quickly, and Heather’s smoldering ember was reignited. Now it was out in the open. It *was* his fault. She found herself searching out her father’s face in the crowd, but she couldn’t reach his eyes.

She found him peering into Rose’s herb stash several nights before the Quarter Feast was about to begin, Heather watching from afar, waiting. She only saw him once more that night, heading toward the hunters, and then he was gone.

She said nothing as the night went on, being sure not to look at the offending monster as the Quarter Feast continued, playing shocked as he finally fell, scrambling to her den to offer herbs and aid to the fallen heir. In the chaos, she was able to get away with being slower than she should have been, and she felt a small poisonous, short lived blossom of delight when Rose pronounced him dead, retreating to retrieve the Heart Stone.

Kara was still gone, and Saerian had called for her to be captured and returned, knowing she carried Pyre’s pups. And now her father was missing too.

The damage had still been done, even *if* some justice had been.

The final blow for her family would come when Rose stood up to take the blame for Pyres death, and Heather could do nothing but stare in horror as she was sentenced to execution. There was nothing to be done. One last act of defiance toward their hand in life was enacted, Heather ordering the guards aside, along with several others, under the farce that she was to give her mother her last rites and allow her family to say goodbye. Instead, she delivered her mother an herb not unlike the one that had taken Pyre, and the two shared a knowing glance as she chewed the bitter leaves.

It was a small mercy Heather could accept.

A season or two passed, and the pack settled once again, though Saerian never recovered completely from the loss, Heather, in a way, was glad her sister was free of this place. While the attitude toward the Sages never seemed to waver, other females were being put down once again, reinforced by the ‘actions’ of Kara. Autumn suffered under the harsher regime, being berated time and time again for not taking a mate, but the red wolf never buckled under the weight of it, at least not in public.

Autumn, much like Kara had been, was sick of being second class to the males in the pack, and in private, suggested that she and Heather leave, to live their own life far from the disapproving eyes and fangs of Riverfell. They could run away – together.

Heather’s heart ached, longing to flee with the wolf she had grown so fond of, but she couldn’t find it in herself to leave. At least not yet. Her whole life revolved around the pack, and she found that she needed the stability with her entire family gone.

But Autumn couldn’t wait forever.

In the spring, the red female asked her for the fourth time, dodging the old, tired ‘*I’ll think about it’* line that Heather had tossed at her several times before, and demanding an answer, fresh scars over her muzzle from the punishment she’d received only the week before. She couldn’t live like this anymore. Heather, about to leave on a small journey to find fresh herbs now that the snow had melted, meekly promised her an answer when she returned. But the pair of them both knew she wouldn’t have one.

She was unsurprised that Autumn was gone when she came home, but the pain she felt in her heart was great, and her absence was felt immediately. While her family had been taken from her, she had only herself to blame for Autumn’s leaving.

When Mutaias approached her in the summer with aspirations of becoming a Sage, Heather found she had something to work toward again, eagerly taking the young male under her wing. It wasn’t long, however, before Jedrek was breathing down her neck about it.

The two had grown up around the same time, but he had always been a bit of a pitiful sort, never quite meeting his father’s expectations; just another victim of Riverfell’s toxic masculinity. She never held it against him really, and she knew that the circumstances surrounding him being a single father weren’t the most glamorous, but that was no excuse for his behavior. She found herself steeled against his onslaught of anger more than once when he demanded she stop teaching his son; the boy was to be a fighter, not some leaf pusher. She refused, and while he relented after several more arguments, she couldn’t miss the disdain in his eyes for her.

It was Heather who cared for Mutt as his wound healed, given to him by his abusive father, and it was Heather who took the brunt of the blame for it from Jedrek. *If you’d just turned him away, this never would have happened.* After all she’d been through, she could hardly pretend to care for his opinion of things, and Heather simply ignored his words; spoken of a disgraced male who had nothing to offer the pack. She felt pity for him, but she could not bring herself to offer a word of kindness for a long time after the incident.

She continued her training with Mutaias, delighted at how quickly he picked up the craft. He was quick and bright, and eager, and Heather was happy to have the company of someone again, growing fond of the boy, a sort of maternal feeling toward him. She was there for him with every change of rank he underwent, his greatest supporter, and in return she gained a loyal and trustworthy friend.

Throughout the next few seasons, she found herself wandering the territory, usually ending up near the Lake of Stars, wondering if her father was still alive, or if he had passed on, and if he had, was his soul trapped, trying to find its way to Rose? She thought often of Kara, hoping that she was somehow still alive out there. She was tough, but would it be enough? And if she had been pregnant when she left… She didn’t want to doubt her sister’s abilities, but the wilds were an unkind place, especially for a mother and her pups.

She visited the places they used to roam, as though hoping to catch a scent of her, a sign, anything. But all she found was silence.

--

Saerian was dead. That was for sure.

It had been several years now, and as Master Sage, she placed the Heart Stone on Saerian’s side dutifully, though her eyes strayed to the mourning wolves that lingered near the edge of the treeline. A mysterious death. And Rhaegar, with his glinting, smiling eyes that held nothing but bad intentions. Heather had never been fond of him – in fact, she was sure she might *actually* hate him – his cruel nature was beyond measure. Females were considered lesser than, and that was fine to Heather, but Rhaegar seemed to delight in belittling and even injuring any females who stood in his way or dared even looked at him wrong. He was a menace, and Heather could only hope that the look he gave the next in line wouldn’t amount to anything.

Then the beta was dead.

Without much fanfare, Rhaegar took his place, and along with him came Jedrek, much to Heathers dismay. Things hadn’t been terrible before, and Heather had been content, happy even, with her place in the pack. She knew her role and did it well. But the steel grip that Rhaegar brought to rule the pack was insufferable. Females were stripped of nearly every right they had, and ranks were delegated to them, not allowing them the basic decency of choice – in any way shape or form.

The pack was stifling and miserable, even several of the males unable to cope with the extreme laws they were put under, and she was regrettably happy when a few of her packmates managed to slip out one night, never to be seen again. This was not the Riverfell she knew and loved.

She convened several times the Nest of Siamsa, attempting in vain to seek knowledge on how she could help, but much like her sister long ago, she heard nothing. Her faith, however, was not so easily shaken, and one fateful evening, the screeching of an eagle answered her calls, the enormous bird flying south, and it was then Heather made her decision. She would leave on the next full moon to pursue this clear signal from Siamsa herself. Riverfell, long ago, had taken the journey, and it was clear to her that this was a sign for her to embark on the same trek. She would follow the stars, and Siamsa’s wings would guide her, as they had for much of her life.

Her dreams for the next few days were plagued with strange signs. Feathers, talons, a mess of imagery that she couldn’t decipher upon waking, despite her best efforts, but when the dreams abated, she knew it was time to take to the wilds.

She spoke with Rhaegar and convinced him to let her go on her spiritual journey, convincing him it was for the good of the pack, that she had seen signs of greatness in him from Siamsa, and that she was to follow the signals.

If she had only waited a week more; she would have seen the return of her father.

To say her journey had gone smoothly would be a gross overstatement.

Thunderstorms, blizzards, even sandstorms once she was far enough south, threatened her every move, or so it seemed, and she became lost more than once when the stars were obscured by clouds and debris. She knew her way around the Domain, but out here, she was at the mercy of the stars.

Oh, but the places she saw… She couldn’t deny the beauty of the landscape that changed the further she went, and she was keen to tell the others of the things she’d seen on her journey. However, a strange icy coldness gripped even the warm stones of her latest discovery, and she could only imaging how cold things were about to get back home. Would they be alright without her?

That journey was soon brought to an abrupt end. She lost her footing on a narrow strip of land that connected the two sides of a canyon, and despite managing to hold on for a few moments, her inevitable fall resulted in her leg taking most of the weight upon hitting the ground. Passing out would have been a kindness that the world wouldn’t allow her, but while she was wounded, she was thankful to be alive at all. Her leg would heal; it was mostly superficial, but the pain that persisted was intense.

She sat at the bottom of the canyon for a day at least, wondering how in the world she was going to get herself out of this mess, and lamenting the entire journey. Had it been a mistake? Should she have just stayed home? By the time she’d dragged herself up a break in the sheer rock walls, she was exhausted and near tears from the pain, teeth gritted in effort against the failing limb.

Cold and shivering, at first, she thought she might have been mistaken when spotted a familiar figure in the distance. Jedrek? All the way out here? She had to admit, she was happy to see him out here in the middle of nowhere, and after having been alone for so much of her venture, she was glad to have someone to talk to, even if it was him.

They spoke little the first night, but by noon the next day, Jedrek dropped another bomb on her.

Kara was dead, that much she had felt in the winds long ago, but her daughter – *Shiloh* – was alive. Not only was she alive, she had challenged and defeated Rhaegar, seizing control of Riverfell and ushering in a new era of equality and peace. Heather’s heart was already full at this point, but Jedrek only topped it off by relaying that her father had also returned home.

The Master Sage could not believe her ears. In fact, for a brief moment, she almost thought it was some big lie he had concocted – Jedrek was more of a thinker than most males in the pack, and she wouldn’t put it past him to come up with something like this. But then, why else would he be out this far on his own if he hadn’t been dropped from his pedestal at Rhaegar’s side?

Surely, if she decided to head home at this point with her injury, Siamsa would understand…

## Trivia

* She has a snaggletooth on the left side of her mouth.

## External Link

* Official Application Sheet
* PaperElk's deviantART Gallery