Chairavali Graves (Sparrow)

Recent Thread: Every Demon Wants His Pound of Flesh.
Themes: Braille, Carry On My Wayward Son (final thing she sung to her abandoned son).
Species: Griffin shifter.
Distinguishing Characteristics?: Throughout her forms lie several traits that are maintained, shared through both bipedal and avian counterparts. One example of this could be the ashen colouration that flourishes throughout, on terms of human appearance through her hair, and within her avian form throughout the entirety of her plumage, the grey tones constructing the majority of her colouration. Alongside this, the faded, blue-grey of her irises remain through her two forms.
Shifter Appearance: A physical definition of the elder feminine would lead us to the conclusion of a griffin accented by her grey plumage, piercing grey-blue eyes, and sharp tongue. In terms of appearance, no signs of her rough endured lifestyle are provided other than the slight stunt in her height, dipped back, somewhat bony haunches and elder disposition. Hindered only in slight by the effects of old age, however, the griffin sports a compact build, with a defined bone and muscle structure to flesh her out a little more. Across her coat lie several scabs, causing the skin there to be rougher than usual to the touch on contact.

Personality: Overall, Chairavali could be considered a badass if there ever was one, to be perfectly honest. Leading from a life of hardships, her personality has twisted very much towards the path of independence, leaning towards a cold, almost emotionless state. She is heavy on the tongue, with her own, quirky, bitter humour that nobody seems to be able to understand, which is mostly made up of vocalized mockery. In this sense, she is, and always has been, very abrupt and abrasive in the way of which she speaks. Snappy and generally aggressive when it comes to close contact, any physical contact generally causes discomfort from the shifter; the feminine is quick to judge the flaws of others without consideration for shared traits between her target and herself, perhaps able to be considered a hypocrite. She is highly unsympathetic; while her knowledge of herbs and their healing properties are much broader than most, she is likely to see through someone playing it up to be worse than it is easily, and finds it easy to reject someone of treatment should they not be considered ill or injured enough to receive it. When in surroundings old and new, the healer will make the most of what surrounds them, and live purely from the land itself. Mental maps of the terrain, detailing the best provided herb growths, feeding spots, moss collection spots, and things of the like, for later reference when in need of their services. Not a thing should be wasted. She has never been graceful or very womanly, and despite her apparent age, she is, in actuality, very rough and boisterous more often than not. She, however, does have a soft spot for both birds and babies, of whatever species they may be. Though trying her best to hide the close affection for young of whatever species they may be, from cubs to foals, the elder approves highly of educating them, and does so with her bitter humor and sharp tongue, in actuality, highly efficiently. She just needs to find a student that will be able to endure her outbursts.





PETS



Name: Tajule.
References: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.
Species/Breed: Bearded Vulture.
Gender: Male.
Color: Orange, black, white and grey.
Personality: Unlike Ryiah, Tajule has a tendency to be plenty more forward and curious, especially on terms of humans. He is slightly younger than the female counterpart of which is kept with him, though has peaked into adulthood, thus meaning that he has become extremely protective of what he believes to be his female, Ryiah; natural male behaviour, no doubt.

Name: Ryiah.
References: 1, 2, 3, 4.
Species/Breed: Bearded Vulture.
Gender: Female.
Color: Pink, black, white and grey.
Personality: The thing that defines the avian's personality tends to be her vanity; she is incredibly proud of her appearance, taking her youth to her advantage, keeping her plumage pruned and colouration bright, taking full acknowledgement on which dirt or water source gives the strongest, most desirable colouration. Aside from that, however, she is incredibly stern, preferring to allow Tajule to do the curious investigating.


Life began as a fragile bond formed between the likes of two griffin shifters, one a petite, tan-coloured female, and the other a prideful, vain, reddish-brown male. The meeting was hazardous, and it certainly took a little time for the bond to form, though it did so. And hence, that was that; in the midths of a relationship blossoming, the female became pregnancy. The birth began with the anxious young mother wandering aimlessly in shortened circle in failed attempt to become comfortable; having not produced any offspring in the past, this was to be her first clutch. Inexperienced and young, she knew not the correct signs of labor, hence the breaking of the water was unexpected and rather terrifying. Though the father tried to force her to say down through both vocals and actions, the fragile feminine only staggered and protested, ending up taking a nick from his neck. With a fresh trail of blood streaming down the neck and a fresh demand sourced to leave, the male turned, leapt to the skies, and sought not to return. Soon enough, the female had laid her first clutch, of a mere one egg; Chairavali. She did her best to maintain herself while constantly surveying the egg, constantly checking for changes in temperature, or any signs that life was fading within the shell.

When the egg finally did hatch, her mother never saw the youngster. She never knew what ended her mother's life; all she remembered was nudging herself into the thick, crimson-stained tan plumage and remaining there as long as her body would allow. Chairavali was alone from day one, essentially. She slept with her dead mother no more than two feet from her; was forced to feed on the rotting carcass of the griffin to stay alive. Even the rats were too quick for the uncoordinated youngster, so instead she went for such easier pickings, and though the rotting meat was tough and tasteless, it satisfied her body. The return of her father was the thing that encouraged her to begin her life; as he returned to the hatchling feasting on the carcass of his mate, he tried to kill her, for of course they had no idea who each other was. She ran, scrambled at the rock, and eventually skidded off the edge of the island, body colliding with the rocky cliff-face. That was, until her feathered appendages extended, and the youngster was propelled into an unstable glide, her father returning to the corpse of her mother to mourn.

Landing on the first land mass she came into contact with, she found the place to be inhabited by the strange, fleshy, bipedal creatures with no fur - they were odd to her at first, and she did her best to avoid contact with them, surviving in the alley much like a stray dog or cat might; on scraps from the human's garbage. It was then she discovered that she could shift into one; she spent years perfecting the ability, the griffin almost tripling in size over the course of ten years. She began to get far too big to go unnoticed, and was forced to move father and father from the humans as they began noticing her and pointing her out. She never had liked the attention. She eventually found a cave within a cliff to inhabit, marking out specific placed, even stealing things from the human village to make the place more hospitable, though she didn't intend on receiving visitors. She lived there for years on end, occupying her time with growing healing herbs, studying their properties, and categorising them, collecting the plants from all over the place. It became quite the obsession of hers.

That was until a foreign, large, black and white griffin shifter by the name of Ilaren dove into her life, and though the male was charming at first, his mentality wavered, in a sense. He was possessed by shortened spurts of unexplained anger and aggression, and though she loved him with all her heart, she never felt entirely safe. He became obsessed with her. She eventually laid a clutch of eggs, three of them, and the male instantly took a turn for the worst, becoming bitter and aggressive towards her, threatening the safety of her young and herself whenever she would think of going against his will. Still, she did her best to tend to them under his malicious eye, and when they hatched, she was filled with pride at the three, though knew they couldn't live as she was. She didn't feel as if they were safe. So, she came up with a scheme; when the male was sleeping, she would sneak from the cave and leave one of her young on a doorstep, in the hope that they would live their life in peace, then she would repeat with the other two. Thus, the first she left was the weakest of the three; a black and white male that resembled the father, though sported her blue eyes; she sung to him to console his crying as he was laid upon the doorstep in his human form. But, when she returned, he knew what she'd done.

He beat her down and left her to bleed with her two remaining children cuddled into her flanks, but she didn't die as he expected, no. She fought against it, if only for her two children. For her son and daughter; she didn't want them to end up like she had. She put her herbal knowledge to use, slowly healing her wounds and regaining her strength, and as she did so, she taught her children about them. She raised them as best she could, despite her inexperienced nature, and she let them go when they were ready, releasing them into the world. She held out hope that she would see them again someday, though she barely saw their faces in anything but her own memory. She was alone again, alone as ever. The one son that she had abandoned never forgave her, and never recognised her. Who wants to tell a boy that you abandoned them, even with the conditions? What mother had to tell their son that they couldn't protect him?

Years later, she discovered Tajule and Ryiah, finding them in a pet store; she stole them, pitying the shrieking chicks. They were the only thing that could console her in her solemn loneliness, and she treasured them like her own children, growing a strengthened bond with the individual birds as they grew. She saw Aurora grow more populated, watching with fading interest as more inhabitants flooded into the town. She was an overwatcher of sorts; that was all she was. A fragment of young children's imagination, a terrible mother who couldn't protect her children, and a toy to be thrown about by males. Nothing more, nothing less.

[attr="class","sigh"]Griffin Shifter

[attr="class","sigh"]Female

[attr="class","sigh"]Appears 60s

[attr="class","sigh"]Bisexual

[attr="class","sigh"]Frail

[attr="class","sigh"]5'6

[attr="class","sigh"]Grey

[attr="class","sigh"]Faded Grey-Blue

[attr="class","sigh"]No Occupation

[attr="class","fall"] Helen Mirren - Chairavali Iskierka Graves