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Approved WK Bio - Dautry Ayers, CC'd by FL Kaklaw!


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Handle: Myth


Character Name: Dautry Ayers, everybody calls him



Group: Wolfkin


Race: Andoran


Age: 16


Height: 5' 7"


Weight: 150lbs


Eye Color: Blue


Hair Color: Reddish Blonde




He didn’t know where exactly he was going to go, and his father insisted that he didn’t want to know anyway. “They can’t make me tell ‘em, if I have

no idea,†he had growled while he was packing up a travel kit. He had just gotten news of the Lord Byron’s warrant before hurrying home to warn Dautry.


Dautry still couldn’t believe that he was somehow the "bad guy" just because the Lord had gotten scared when he saved him. It wasn’t his fault his eyes

had started changing color a few weeks back. In fact, you’d think the so-called “Lord†would appreciate the fact that Dautry had saved him in the middle of the night. After all, the guy had been unconscious, it had been falling a flood, and most likely he would have died from infection from the horribly fractured leg before anyone else would have found him otherwise. In the stories, he would have been given a huge reward and maybe even been betrothed to a beautiful girl for that sort of thing. Of course, this wasn’t the stories... and besides, he had taken his reward.


Grinning as he patted Big Red, the swift Tairen stallion he had recently “acquired†from the Lord’s stables, he thought he’d gotten a pretty good

deal. Well, if he got away, it would be. Checking the girth on his saddle, Dautry reflected on the events of the past couple of days.


Lord Byron loved to hunt, everyone knew that, but when he had disappeared in the tangle of Hadden Mirk in northern Tear and didn’t show up for several

days, everyone feared him dead. The search had been thorough, and Dautry had been in the thick of it. Spending daylight to dark searching for a needle in

a haystack was no fun, especially when no one was sure there was a needle and the haystack was several hundred square miles of thicket.


On the fourth day, the nobility had ceased searching, but Byron’s retainers carried on alone. As the sun had fallen, so had the rain, in a deluge of

mythical proportions. As darkness creeped over the search, Dautry had maintained his vigil. Never noticing the diminishing light, only the diminishing number of dry spots on his body, which quickly became zero, he had eventually spied Byron in a shallow overhang, passed out from pain and burning with fever. Feeling very proud of himself, Dautry had somehow managed to get the very fat Lord onto his horse. It had been terrible misfortune that Byron had regained consciousness at that point and stared

him point-blank in the face. Eye to golden eye. The horrified scream would probably stay with him forever.


The return trip to camp accompanied by the fevered, frantic screams of Byron wasn’t the most fun he had ever had. His father quickly ushered him home as

soon as possible after he led the Lord into camp, assuring him that everything would be fine and that Byron’s screams of “Kill the Shadowspawn!â€

were just fever dreams.


Snapping back to the present, Dautry realized that this certainly wasn’t a fever dream.


“Speed, my boy,†his father shouted at him from inside the house as he continued gathering supplies for the road, “Make sure you get hid real

quick. Stay off the main roads, and maybe this’ll all blow over in a few days.†He didn’t sound very convincing, though. Standing there alongside the

tall sorrel Tairen stallion, Dautry again thought back...


This certainly wasn’t what his father had in mind when he went to work for Byron those several years ago. No, back then his dad was brimming with confidence. He had been a talented farrier, and Dautry had proven to be a talented horseman despite his youth. Both skills were highly coveted by the

Lords of Tear, so they had moved from the outskirts of Caemlyn to the plains of Tear. Tairen horseflesh was the best in the world, and horse owners wanted the best help they could afford to take care of them. Dautry had earned quite a fortune riding on the backs of Byron’s horses, especially Big Red. The two of them had never lost a race (He had even won a crown or two in footraces, himself. Both were reasons why his dad called him Speed.), and his dad was not only a gifted farrier but was a fair vet, as well. Life had been good.


Things had been going great, that is, until the last few months. At least, that’s when Dautry began noticing the changes...


The first weird thing he recalled was hearing the horses one night. They were screaming and pawing something fierce! As he snapped to attention from

a deep sleep, it was like they were right outside his window. Shaking his dad awake, Dautry was confused when his dad asked “What’s going on Speed?â€


Yelling something about the horses as he sped out the door toward the barn, he didn’t take any notice of it until later. Looking to make sure everything

was okay, he had noticed a wolf at the edge of the woods and was staring at it “Is it smiling at me?†when his dad startled him with a terse, “Horses

are scared to death of them wolves. It’s not likely to cause trouble, though, not this time of year. How’d you hear the horses, Speed? They didn’t

get worked up much at all, what with that wolf not any closer than it was.â€


Staring at his father in silence, Dautry didn’t have an answer. After that, things had really started getting strange. He kept hearing things that no

one else could hear, and he could pick out horses from so far out that his dad began to call him Eagle Eye. That is, until his eyes started changing

color. His dad didn’t have a nickname for that.


As his eyes got noticeably golden, people started giving him weird looks and muttered about Friends of the Dark. One old woman even made a point to give

him garlic every time she saw him. It smelled just like she did. Pretty soon, he had started avoiding everybody except for his dad and the horses.

But even then he was almost never alone. His daily rides, whether it was a short sally with a young colt, a few sprints with a racer, or a day-long

jaunt with a trail horse, were almost always accompanied by wolves. Not for long at first, just in the distance or for just a second, like they wanted

to make sure he saw ‘em. But as time passed, they grew less wary and moved more openly. His dad noticed, but said nothing except to make sure he always had his knife and bow and not to let ‘em get too close to the horses. “After all,†he had said with an amused chuckle, “What else can we do, Speed? It’s not like they listen to us.â€


Dautry thought they might. At least to him, anyway. It was weird, but it was more than just a feeling. Now there were always wolves around, even in his

dreams. As long as he could remember, his dreams were about running, whether on his feet or on the back of a horse. The wind in his face and the ground

flying underneath him in a blur, nothing could make him happier. He dreamed about it often, but now when he dreamed there was a wolf running alongside him every time.


“Speed! It’s time to go.†Snapping back to reality, he saw his dad checking one last time to make sure the bedroll and saddlebags were fastened properly

before adjusting the bowcase slung over the saddlehorn. Standing there next to Big Red, Dautry sighed, recognizing that this might be the last time he ever saw his dad. “Da, you never even got on to me for stealing Red.â€


Laughing, his dad clapped a hand on his shoulder and replied, “Speed, my boy, as much as they’re stealing from you, I figure your taking a horse is the least of my worries. Now get out of here, and don’t let ‘em catch you.â€


Slinging himself onto the fastest horse in Tear, Dautry looked down at his dad one last time before riding into the unknown. He could already feel the

wolves in the distance...

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