Azirra’s form is honed from generations of good breeding. Her stature is fairly average, leaning slightly on the shorter side, but her length stretches a little longer then normal from nose to tail tip. She carries all the distinct attributes of the Mexican, long sinewed legs and long muzzle. Her pelt is fluffy and dashed with a rich tapestry of siennas and grays, with light creamy hues padding her lower muzzle, extending down her throat to her underside, expertly hiding coiled steel and veiling a wiry chassis. In addition, her thick coat cloaks a tapestry of short scars that interlace along her chest and side, reminders from her childhood and effectively hidden by her adult coat. Her gait is very smooth and balanced, light and sure, her posture always calculating a counter and fluidly responding to the focus of her attention. She possesses lightning fast reflexes that are almost always instantly hostile, making her not a fun target to toy with. Irises are the intense autumn brown of fall and rimmed with coal, constantly flitting about, and framed by fluted auds that are long and angular.

Azirra is really like an onion. Except with only two layers, often two very opposing layers.



Honed/Ruthless/Loyal

As soon as the pup could open her eyes, her father Azul Ramonov began training her for his revenge. He quickly exterminated the softness of a new pup, forcing her to follow him on runs until she collapsed, unable to keep up with his long strides. He sparred with her daily, mercilessly, without instruction, giving her numerous scars. Thus, he forced her to learn to fight through raw experience and survival instinct. Azul was one of few words, of smoldering eyes, and unforgiving nature. He built her into the precise killing instrument he needed, she could eat and survive off of almost anything and almost nothing. Subjected to her keeper’s often cruel and unusual treatments, she has an extremely high threshold for pain. Her first lesson was to never expect mercy, to never give mercy, to follow the kill all the way through. Her smaller and lighter stature meant she had to make it up in speed and silence, and that’s what her father wanted her to be, an assassin.
These skills have come in handy in the life of a loner, she is both resourceful and adaptable, maintaining the hard lifestyle her father raised her in.

Yet despite his harsh treatment of the only survivor of his litter, her father loved her in his silent, stoic way. He nursed her wounds, covered her with his body in the rain, and other small things that showed he cared. He’d robbed her of a normal carefree childhood, but for the sake of avenging her mother and dead siblings wasn’t it worth it? Azirra too owns the fierce loyalty that runs in the veins of her father, a loyalty that has driven him almost mad with vengeance, but loyalty all the same. When any wolf of the Romonov name commits themselves to a worthy beast, it will last till their dying breath.




Insecure, lonely, naïve, optimistic


Despite her harsh upbringing, Azirra’s mental maturity is more her age, younger then her age actually. She yearns for the normal pack life she never had, and often spies on pups playing (in a pretty creepy way). Her father never accounted for her mother’s traits in her, sociable, lighthearted and a little sassy, all the traits that Azul had loved her mother for. Though without nurturing, these traits still lay somewhat dormant within her, prone to frequent outbursts.



This mix of traits is the cause of Azirra’s shorted lived bouts with packs. She is drawn to them, but with no idea of how to properly interact she remains cold and withdrawn, often making senior members nervous with her secretive past and hostile reflexes (the pup watching doesn’t help either).

Azirra’s story runs like a fairy tale gone awry.

Her father, Azul Romonov comes from a long and proud line of purebred Mexican wolves. One of two sons of the Alpha male, he was a regular little prince who quickly courted Teleen Loia and made her his little princess. A favorite of his father, he grew up the golden child destined for leadership. Of course they never account for the downtrodden younger brother Reno, who hated his brother with a blind fury. Reno plotted with their rival pack, and in a midnight raid killed the Alpha, their father, and framed Azul, who had illicitly sired pups with Teleen when pack law dictated that only the Alphas could have pups. Using a mixture of false evidence and the Azul’s true defiance of pack law, Reno banished Azul and killed his newborn pups, all but one, who had crawled into a mole tunnel at the back of the den during the heartless massacre. Teleen was said to have died of grief from the death of her pups, but rumors had it that she’d taken her own life rather then allow Reno to force himself upon her. Azul soon discovered the carnage of his old den, as well as the surviving pup, bottled his rage, and began plotting.



He raised Azirra to become the death of Reno, molding her to become the second half of the killing machine that would take down all the cronies Reno had surrounded himself with. As soon as her body reached its maximum size, Azul could wait no longer. They attacked at night, effectively taking out all of Reno’s bodyguards. Azirra was sent to kill Reno’s pups while Azul and Reno began their fight to the death. But faced with a hysterical mother and three tiny pups peeping at her, Azirra’s bloodlust faded, suddenly unsteady she stumbled back out of the den, straight into her father’s fight. Immediately noticing her vulnerability, Reno went straight for her throat, Azul barely interjected in time, and was ripped open across the chest. With her father bleeding to death at her feet, Azirra killed Reno, finally finishing her father’s work.



Azirra has traveled far since then. Wandering aimlessly in search of acceptance and peace.