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Ylfa, wolf of the Isviaur and child of the Wind. That is how she was named, generations after their village had fled their dying forest for the mountain ridges above it. Traveling higher and higher until they ended up within the last of their numbers. Hardships, struggles, sacrifices- that was what made those of the winter wood survive with their life's code intact. The fires of the past often told in the tales to future generations, Ylfa's generation; alongside the tales of worship for the Voice that'd given them salvation. The one who brought them from the brink of extinction to the nomadic life they live now.
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Such a life would be forfeit without the Voice's blessing, or so they'd say. Not that the young viera could deny it, often times she could hear it on the wind from its howling shriek to the smallest whisper in the silence. Thus with every new birth, no matter how few their number might be; she had been offered to a gryphon mother as many before her. A tradition set in stone and one that would prove her soul worthy to carry on the winds or be sacrificed to feed the strong. Three hatchlings, three chances, if none of them defended her then her life was forfeit.
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And one did. The two who had tried to eat her became their brother's meal instead. Such was their way. One beast per Viera, one soul to complete another; that was how the Isviaur lived... and how they died. It was more then a code but a life-bonding oath.
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For ages did the daughter of the Wind live amongst her people in isolation, learning life's cruel habits and its small mercies. Rarely did they interact with anyone, even rarer still if they stayed in one place long enough for someone to even find them. Chicks grow fast after all, unlike their kit counterparts. It was an interesting day when she'd had to learn to mount Silfur, what with being barely as tall as his foreleg. Even funnier when one realized that a bigger body didn't quite mean a good flyer from the start. But they learned, learned and grew and survived... Yet a poison grew inside her. The accursed edge of curiosity.
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Her childhood went by too quickly for her liking, the responsibilities of the clan rushing to weigh down on her. All she needed was to complete a trial, a simple trifle really; 'hunt a great beast', they'd said. Though in truth just snatching something to feed the eldest gryphon would've been enough. A mountain goat or perhaps some kind of fat monster. Anything could've worked. Yet when she'd gone down to hunt, she hadn't gone back up. Her curiosity of the world below had created a hunger in her, one that had her on the edge. Childish whimsy had her gone with a countless amount of excuses and far too much eagerness found in youth.
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But she hadn't expected her 'journey' to be cut short. No one ever seemed to mind when she'd walk off with something shiny, she'd left teeth for them after all (it was a fair trade!); or made off with one of those strange goats that were more fluff then fat. Well, the people at the 'tavern', as they called it; didn't seem too pleased when she'd won their odd little coins. It's not like it was her fault they thought they'd only fight her instead of Silfur.
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Who'd have thought folks thought the blessed Gryphons monsters, what blasphemy! She'd told them that too!- right after they'd drafted her into their forces. 'Working to pay off debts' they said, not like she quite understood what they wanted from her in the first place. Though to be fair it was better then sitting in that damp, boring stone room. Too bad she was a good hunter, maybe then she wouldn't have been worked so hard from the very beginning. A perfect gopher for messages, a better hunter of bandits, and a unique opponent for their cut and paste recruits to spar against. Poor things. Again, why does everyone think she fights alone? Perhaps it was because it felt so natural that she stayed... yeah that's a lie. She just didn't want to go back to the things she used to know. This was far too fun to turn away from.
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Kind of ironic how she never abandoned her village's name.
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Too bad for her the peace wouldn't last. Years had passed- those she knew retired while others stayed, newbloods entered the fray... All at the worse timing it felt. Word had already reached them of the east's fall before those iron ships of poisonous smoke and fire came to their shores. She'd fought alongside her fellows, using her strengths to beat back the invaders-! Only to realize their firepower was quite a bit more then her lonesome self. Never before had she felt such disgrace, to back once the royal family had been taken to safety. Now she fights to regain her honor and pride, to feed the Voice the screams of her enemies.